Blooming
by Tangerine53
Summary: Little Joe's daughter Anne Marie is just like her parents: stubborn and inquisitive. Raised and somewhat spoiled in a house full of men, the ways of womanhood are quite foreign to her. When she meets the young widow Diana Cunningham and her daughter Rachel, Anne Marie starts to learn all about being a lady, but there's more to this charming coming-of-age story than meets the eye.
1. The Cunninghams

I've never written a sequel before since I usually like my stories to simply stand on their own, but the idea of writing a story about Anne Marie, Little Joe and Avonlea's daughter, has been mulling around in my mind ever since I finished "Back on the Horse," and I finally decided to just go through with it. If you haven't read my story "Back on the Horse," I highly recommend that you do before proceeding with this one. Even though it isn't necessary, there are a lot of references to Anne Marie's mother Avonlea that are fairly important to understand this story as a whole, particularly the beginning. Check out my profile to see any of my other work and please, if you go back and read "Back on the Horse," leave a review and let me know what you think as well as reviewing this story. I love reviews and they really help to keep the juices flowing, so if you read, please review! And now, without further ado, let's take a trip to the Ponderosa.

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_**Blooming**_

**Chapter 1**

"Up we go!"

Adam Cartwright placed his hands on his niece's waist and lifted her from the buckboard.

"Uncle Adam!" she cried when her feet were firmly on the ground. "You shouldn't pick me up out of the buggy like that. I'm a lady."

"Oh?" Adam smirked then bowed at the waist as he swooped his hat low to the ground in a grand gesture of repentance. "I'm exceedingly sorry for offending you, my lady. I was only attempting to assist you in your descent from this rickety carriage. I would never forgive myself if you had tripped and sullied your new dress with dust."

The giggle and smile he received in response was worth any amount of embarrassment he could have suffered.

Anne Marie was a pretty little girl of six with an untamable mane of frizzy brown hair that sparkled with an auburn tint under the summer sun. Her cherry-colored cheeks were a result of being scrubbed too hard by her father and grandfather, but the shade only served to complement the snap in her brown eyes, so it mattered little that they habitually rubbed her skin raw every Saturday night. She was always dressed in the finest material and the brightest colors for Hop Sing felt that such a beautiful girl should never be seen in drab, dingy grays or mournful browns, and her family quite agreed. She was the apple of their eye, and she knew it. Every one of the Cartwright men was twisted around her finger so tightly it was a wonder she wasn't the most selfish child in Nevada Territory with the way they spoiled her. But though she constantly received all her heart could ever desire, Anne Marie was a sweet girl with a delicate heart that was often masked with a mischievous yet perfectly harmless grin inherited from her father.

"Ladies first," Adam said as he placed his hat on his head and stepped back to let Anne Marie walk into the mercantile before him.

She lifted her chin and graciously allowed him to trail her, but the moment her eyes caught sight of the shelves of candy along the back wall her performance ended. She rushed toward them, grabbing her uncle's hand and pulling him behind her.

"Oh, Uncle Adam!" she cried. "Can I have a lemon drop, please?"

Adam raised a suspicious eyebrow in response to her large, pitiful eyes. "You'll spoil your supper and then Hop Sing won't be too happy with me, now will he?"

"Just one won't spoil it," she argued.

"We'll see. Lemme talk to Bert first. Remember you promised to be a good girl if I took you with me? Now you can look, but don't touch."

Anne Marie sighed and nodded. Now she would have to wait while Adam talked with Bert and the two men loaded a dozen sacks of grain onto the buckboard. Hop Sing needed sugar too, and she knew they wouldn't come back without buying some cloth to be made into more dresses for her. She was growing like a weed, at least that's what her grandfather said. She didn't think growing like a weed sounded like a good thing; she would much rather grow like a flower. Her father called her his flower, and she liked that because she liked seeing the flowers bloom in springtime. When the snow started to melt she knew it wouldn't be long until the world was green again, and that was when the flowers grew. Their colors were so bright and full and beautiful. Her favorites were tulips because they came in so many colors. Roses only came in red, even though her grandfather said there were white and even yellow roses too. She wasn't sure if she believed him. After all, who'd ever heard of a yellow rose?

Anne Marie mulled about the store, trying to keep her eyes off the candy, which glittered in glass jars of all sizes upon the shelves. She turned her attention instead to the ladies' hats. She knew her head wasn't big enough for them yet, but she loved looking at them. Lily Patterson had a much larger selection in her dress shop, but these were enough to occupy her until Adam finished his business with Bert.

The door opened and Anne Marie looked up to see her uncle holding it for the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She had dark, dark hair, almost black but not quite, fashioned in an elegant bun on the top of her head. The sun bounced off of it so brilliantly that Anne Marie thought it must be glowing. Her eyes were blue like her Uncle Hoss, yet somehow different. Uncle Hoss had soft eyes that let her know it was all right to cry if she needed to; this woman's eyes were sharper, but not unkind. More than anything they made Anne Marie curious. In contrast to her striking features, she wore a gray, pattern-less cotton dress with no ruffles or frills. In fact, if it weren't for her sparkling blue eyes and ebony hair that stood out against her milky skin, she wouldn't have turned a single head.

She nodded to Adam. "Thank you."

He lifted his fingers to the brim of his hat in acknowledgement.

A young girl followed in her wake, her little hands clutching the woman's skirts as they entered the store. She appeared to be about Anne Marie's age, perhaps a few months younger, and the spitting image of her mother, for there was no conceivable way the woman could be anything else.

"I'll be with ya in just a minute, Ma'am!" Bert shouted as he barreled past her with another bulging sack of grain.

"I'll get the rest, Bert. You shouldn't keep this lovely lady waiting," Adam countered, taking the sack from him.

The woman smiled. "Thank you again, Mr…"

"Cartwright, Ma'am – Adam Cartwright," he said with a nod.

"Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Cartwright. I'm Diana Cunningham, and this is my daughter Rachel." She placed a tender hand on the girl's back as she retreated further into her mother's skirts.

Adam smiled. "You're the new schoolteacher, aren't ya?"

"Yes, I am."

"Well, we're certainly glad you're here. We've been in need of a teacher for several

months."

"I'm sure the children haven't been too upset." Diana smiled softly and Adam returned hers with one of his own.

"My niece is due to start in a year or so and I'm glad she'll have a proper educator. I was about to take over the school myself if they didn't fill the position soon."

"You're a teacher?" Diana looked at him in surprise as her eyes took in his frame and physique. His muscles were too toned and his skin too bronzed for anyone to ever suppose he spent his days in a dusty schoolhouse.

He chuckled. "I know enough to get by, I suppose, but my degree is in architecture. Of course I rarely get the chance to use it. The Ponderosa requires too much attention for my hobbies."

"I've heard of the Ponderosa."

"You won't find a person in the territory who hasn't heard of the Ponderosa, Ma'am; it's the largest ranch in Nevada."

"You must be very proud."

Adam nodded. "It's hard, honest work from sunup to sundown. I'm sure you can relate."

Diana giggled. "I believe I can, Mr. Cartwright, if you're comparing ranching to teaching."

"Few people realize the amount of effort it requires to be a schoolteacher, Mrs. Cunningham, but I can assure you I'm not one of them."

Her cheeks colored and she turned away, slightly embarrassed by his flattery, which she knew was not empty. There was something about his eyes that affirmed the honesty of his lips and she found it nearly impossible to doubt his words.

"Anne Marie!" Adam called suddenly, and the little girl, who had been avidly observing the entire scene, hurried to her uncle's side. "This is Mrs. Cunningham and her daughter Rachel. She'll be your schoolteacher next year."

She curtsied and said, "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cunningham."

"Is this your niece, Mr. Cartwright?" Diana asked as Adam nodded. "She's a very lovely young lady."

Anne Marie grinned and looked up at her uncle who merely smirked.

Diana smiled too then bent at the waist to address the child. "I look forward to having you in my school, Anne Marie," she said.

The girl nodded wordlessly.

"It's been a pleasure, Mrs. Cunningham. C'mon, Anne Marie, we've gotta be gettin' home." Adam threw the last sack of grain onto the back of the buckboard and then helped his niece climb up into the buggy.

Bert hustled out of the store and handed him a paper bag and several yards of bright blue material for Anne Marie.

"Put it on our tab, Bert," he said.

The man nodded, and with that Adam climbed up into the buggy himself, clicked the reins, and the two rattled off down the road that led out of Virginia City toward the mountainous country where the Ponderosa waited to welcome them home.

Once they were well out of town and the road began to grow gradually smoother, Adam reached into the paper bag and pulled out a much smaller one. He handed it to Anne Marie, and peering inside she found two yellow lemon drops.

"Oh, Uncle Adam, thank you!" she cried.

Adam merely smiled, proud to be the one responsible for the gleam in her eyes.


	2. Warm Nights

Thank you all for the incredibly encouraging reviews right out of the gate! It really is heart-warming to have a story so readily received. I hope I can keep the great chapters coming. The next few chapters will help to paint a picture of the life Anne Marie lives with her father, grandfather, and uncles. While they may be slightly slow, they should be filled with sweet scenes between Anne Marie and all four of the Cartwrights so you can get a feel for their relationships, then I'll jump into the meat of the story. Can't go too fast, you know. LOL. Anyway, please keep the reviews coming so I can get a feel for how you're enjoying it, and if you ever have any questions don't hesitate to ask. I will always include a little note at the beginning of each of my chapters, so I can address any you may have...without giving anything away, of course. :) Without further ado, here's chapter 2!

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**Chapter 2**

"Did ya have a good time in Virginia City, flower?" Little Joe asked as he helped Anne Marie out of the buggy.

"Yes, Pa." She kissed him, depositing a sticky residue from the lemon drops onto his cheek.

Little Joe rubbed a hand across his cheek and looked up at his older brother with a sigh. "You're gettin' to be as bad as Hoss," he said.

"I only bought her two. Last time Hoss went to town he bought her the entire jar," Adam replied.

"Two lemon drops won't spoil my supper, Pa," Anne Marie assured him.

Joe smiled sweetly upon his daughter. "Just make sure Hop Sing doesn't find out. Now run along into the house and wash up for supper; it's already on the table."

Anne Marie hurried into the house and Joe turned his attention to the buckboard, which Adam had already begun to unload.

"You're gonna spoil her rotten before she's ten years old," he said.

"I'll let you worry about how spoiled she is, Joe. You're her father; I'm just her uncle."

Joe shook his head and continued with their work, an amused smirk upon his lips.

* * *

"I met the new schoolteacher in town today," Adam announced at dinner.

"Oh?" Ben looked up from the piece of beef he was cutting.

"Her name's Diana Cunningham."

"What's she like?" Hoss asked.

"She's very nice. She has a daughter who looked about Anne Marie's age."

"She's pretty too," Anne Marie added, and the four men turned as a unit to look at her, seated there beside her father.

Ben smiled softly upon his granddaughter. Everything she said and did was precious to him.

"We'll have to pay them a visit then, won't we, flower?" Joe said.

"Yeah, I'll bet you will, Little Joe," Hoss said with a teasing smirk.

"What does her husband do?" Ben asked before Little Joe could respond.

Adam shook his head. "I didn't ask."

"Well, I'm sure they'll be fine neighbors."

"I reckon the kids'll like her a heap better than Abigail Jones." Hoss eyed Adam with a smirk and chuckled.

Joe's cackle resonated over any retort Adam could have made, throwing the remaining three Cartwrights into a fit of raucous laughter while he merely continued eating and rolling his eyes in Anne Marie's direction.

She smiled and giggled. It wasn't often that anyone laughed at Uncle Adam, but she loved watching his face when they did. He would graciously accept his family's ridicule, all the while knowing that the span of his intellect was vastly superior to their own, or so he thought. So, in these rare moments he would sit in silence, wearing an expression of sarcastic consent, fully aware that he would once again have the opportunity to laugh at them soon enough. Of course, Anne Marie didn't know exactly why her uncle's face amused her so; all she knew was that when Uncle Adam rolled his eyes it tickled her so much she couldn't contain her mirth. Besides, she loved to see her father and grandfather and Uncle Hoss not merely chuckling but laughing with their mouths open wide. It meant they were really happy, and the feeling their happiness gave her was warmer and safer than any she'd ever known.

After supper the family sat about the fire as they always did, Ben with his cup of coffee and Joe with his book; Adam with his guitar and Hoss and Anne Marie in front of the hearth with the checkerboard. He was attempting to teach her some strategy to the game, but the process was proving less successful than it could have been if he wasn't so softhearted. He always let her win so she didn't even have to try. At half past eight, Little Joe closed his book and Anne Marie looked up from the board. It was time for bed. She turned to look at Adam who smiled knowingly.

"What suits your fancy tonight, my lady?" he asked.

She considered the question as she climbed up into her father's lap and rested her head against his firm chest.

"What do you like, Uncle Adam?"

"Well, how 'bout this one?"

And he began to play one of Anne Marie's favorite tunes.

"Won't you tell me Annie darlin'

That you love none else but me

For I love you Annie darlin'

You are all the world to me

Tell me darlin' that you love me

Put your little hand in mine

Take my heart sweet Annie darlin'

Say that you'll give me thine

Stars are smilin' Annie darlin'

Through the misty veil of night

They seem laughin' Annie darlin'

While the moon hides her light

Oh, no one listens but the flowers

While they hang their heads in shame

They are modest Annie darlin'

When they hear me call your name

Annie fairest, sweetest, dearest

Look up darlin' tell me this

Do you love me, Annie darlin'

Let your answer be a kiss."

As he strummed the last chord, Adam displayed his cheek for Anne Marie and she wriggled off Joe's lap to come kiss it. Then she kissed Hoss and Ben, bid them goodnight, and took her father's hand as he led her up the stairs to her room.

The room had previously been used as an extra guest suite, but once Little Joe had felt safe letting Anne Marie sleep in her own room, the Cartwrights had spared no expense in lavishly furnishing her quarters. Lacy pink curtains hung from both the windows, which remained open in the spring and summer to allow the warm fragrances of life to pour in. Her large bed was soft and warm with a pile of goose feather pillows at the head and an eiderdown bedspread that deflected the chilling breeze of autumn and the frigid bite of winter. In addition to the great bed, the room consisted of an enormous armoire with a matching nightstand and an ornate vanity with a massive mirror that had belonged to her mother. Resting on the nightstand was a daguerreotype of the woman who had died not one month after Anne Marie's birth.

After slipping into her nightgown, Little Joe knelt beside Anne Marie while she said her prayers, then tucked her into bed.

"Good night, flower," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too, Pa." She kissed his cheek then fell back against the pillows, sticking her thumb in her mouth. Joe knew it was an awful habit, but at the age of six there wasn't much he could say. He figured as long as she'd stopped by the time school started the following year, she would be fine.

He blew out the candle flickering by her bed and exited the room quietly, leaving the door ajar to allow a crack of light from the lamp in the hall to shine in. He wasn't about to have her wake up crying in the dark again.

An hour later the Cartwright men climbed into their respective beds, confident in the knowledge that their precious flower was sleeping soundly just down the hall.


	3. Church

Well, here comes chapter 3. Enjoy, and please keep on reviewing! I have one note.

Anna: I'm glad you enjoyed the Abigail Jones reference. I couldn't resist slipping it in there. :) I'm glad you liked the song too, but I can't take credit for it. I looked up old songs from the time period and found the lyrics to this song which is originally entitled "Molly Darling." I simply changed "Molly" to "Annie" so that Adam could make it special to Anne Marie. I thought I was being clever. LOL.

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**Chapter 3**

Little Joe Cartwright now knew more than he had ever wanted to know about women's clothing, and dressing his little girl every day had convinced him that it would only get more complicated. Thank goodness she'd be dressing herself by the time she needed a corset. If it wasn't for the multiple layers and superfluous frills of her frocks he wouldn't have had to worry about a thing, but there were still several pieces Anne Marie had trouble getting in and out of. This morning, as he helped his daughter into a new dress and started buttoning up the back, she turned to him and said, "Can you put my hair in a bow today, Pa?"

Little Joe sighed. "How 'bout ya wear your new hat instead?"

"I wore it yesterday."

"I guess I should be thankful you're not askin' me to braid," he muttered under his breath, reaching for one of the many ribbons that were strewn across her vanity.

"Not that one, Pa!" Anne Marie cried, horrified.

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's brown. I need the blue one." She nodded toward her baby blue dress, and when she looked up Joe recognized his older brother's smart expression reflected in her eyes.

He smiled and grabbed the blue ribbon instead. "What was I thinking?"

"I dunno, Pa," she said, and he chuckled at the seriousness in her tone.

He missed his wife every day, but no more so than in moments like these, when it was painstakingly obvious that Anne Marie needed a woman's influence in her life, and not just any woman, but her mother. He could slip on her dresses and make sure her buttons were fastened; he could brush her hair every morning; but he didn't know a thing about trying bows or braiding hair, and the thought of having to fashion her mane into a bun was more intimidating to him than a gunfight. His father and brothers were equally as ignorant in this arena, but Avonlea would have known just what to do.

Anne Marie didn't remember her mother, being less than a month old when she died. The only image she had of her was the daguerreotype on her nightstand and the only things she knew about her were the stories her family would tell. Her great grandfather William Gillis had passed away a year ago, but the Christmas before he died he had presented her with a blanket Avonlea had knit for Anne Marie during her pregnancy. She would wind it around the doll Little Joe had given her for her last birthday and sleep with them nestled between her arms every night. However, though she hadn't known her mother, Anne Marie thought she was the prettiest woman she had even seen. Diana Cunningham was the only woman who had ever come close. She wanted to grow up to look just like Avonlea, and from the way her family constantly commented on how she looked "just like her mother," she was confident that she was well on her way.

Little Joe brushed her hair back, wrapped the ribbon delicately around a good chuck of it, and tied it in a limp bow. He held a hand-mirror up to the glass so that she could see it and smirked at the face she made.

"You're not very good at this, are ya, Pa?"

He laughed. "And I think you knew that too." He started to tickle her and she giggled, squirming away from her father as soon as she could catch a breath.

"C'mon, flower, we've gotta go. Grandpa's bringin' the buggy around. Get your hat."

"Susie always has the prettiest ribbons in her hair."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Anne Marie sighed. Though she was only six, she had already begun to realize that some things were beyond Little Joe's abilities, and being a father _and_ a mother was one of them. She hated the thought that she had made him sad and would do whatever it took to make him smile again. To her, there was no stronger or better man in the entire world than her pa. Joe, on the other hand, considered himself indescribably weak. A man of pride, it was difficult for him to shake that nagging feeling of failure in regard to his parenting. He felt as if Anne Marie was at a serious disadvantage compared to the other girls in Virginia City who had their mothers to guide them and dress them and make them feel beautiful, and unlike many other problems he had faced throughout his life, this one had no solution.

In a matter of minutes the five Cartwrights were all piled into the buggy and headed into town in their Sunday best, Anne Marie seated comfortably on Hoss's lap. The little Virginia City church sat on the outskirts of town, just past the last house but not quite as far as the school. It wasn't every Sunday the Cartwrights rode into town to attend church, but they went as often as possible. It was a perfect opportunity for Anne Marie to make friends since she spent most of her days alone on the Ponderosa.

The street in front of the church was abuzz with activity as ladies hustled into the building in their giant hoopskirts, one hand upon the arm of their husband and the other holding that of a small child. Several couples had multiple children surrounding them, all attempting to mind their manners on the Sabbath. The rest of the attendees were miners and shopkeepers and the occasional widow. As Ben tied the horses to the hitching post, Diana Cunningham waltzed past with her daughter in tow, and Adam tipped his hat to her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Cunningham."

"How d'ya do, Mr. Cartwright? Lovely day, isn't it?"

"It is indeed. These are my brothers, Hoss and Little Joe, and my father, Ben Cartwright." Adam nodded to his siblings and then his father as he introduced them, and each tipped his hat in turn.

Diana nodded. "It's nice to meet you."

"Adam tells us you're the new schoolteacher," Ben said. "We hope you'll be very happy here in Virginia City."

"I'm sure I will be. I've already taken a look at the school and it suits me just fine. I don't think it'll be any time at all before I feel right at home."

"And who is this pretty young lady?" Ben asked, bending down to look at the girl by her side.

"This is my daughter Rachel."

"How are you this morning?"

"Very well, thank you, Mr. Cartwright," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Ever since her father died she's been quiet," Diana said apologetically.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Ben rose to his full height and looked into her eyes with his own apologetic gaze.

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright." She turned to Anne Marie then with a bright smile. "Good morning, Anne Marie."

The little girl curtsied as she had upon their first meeting. "Good morning, Mrs. Cunningham."

"Now, I've met your uncle, but which one of these handsome men is your father?"

Anne Marie turned and pointed to Little Joe standing directly behind her. Diana's eyes widened. She didn't know why she was so surprised; after all, the resemblance was uncanny. Still, she had never assumed he would be so young, or so handsome. In fact, she found it hard to take her eyes off of him. When she finally managed to do so, they darted about frantically looking for a woman to accompany this dashing cowboy, but she couldn't find one. Four men stood before her without the trace of a female in their midst, aside from Anne Marie.

Joe smiled and tipped his hat once more. "Pleasure to meet ya, Ma'am," he said.

His eyes were tender and welcoming, and for the first time since her husband's death Diana felt weak in the knees.

"Why don'cha sit with us this mornin', Mrs. Cunningham?" Hoss asked with a wide, beaming smile that she instantly returned.

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright."

"I ain't Mr. Cartwright, Ma'am; I'm just Hoss."

She smiled even wider. "Thank you, Hoss," she said, and with that the entire company entered the tiny church.

As they crossed over the steps, Anne Marie fell behind to speak with Rachel.

"Do you like church?" she asked.

"Sometimes," Rachel replied. "I like the singing, but I don't like having to sit still for so long. My legs fall asleep."

Anne Marie nodded. "Mine too, but I have to sit still or I don't get any dessert."

"Ma won't let me play with my doll all week if I make a sound."

Anne Marie was shocked. A week without her doll sounded like a death sentence more than a punishment. She didn't say anything, however, as they sat down on the hard, wooden pew with the stiff, upright back that prevented her from slouching even the slightest bit. Mrs. Harrison started playing the organ as the last of the stragglers took their seats, and the service began.


	4. Kitchen Catastrophe

Well, here comes the next chapter. Keep those reviews comin', and I might just keep the chapters comin'. :)

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**Chapter 4**

Anne Marie's seventh birthday came and went, and in the blink of an eye the entire next year passed. The little girl grew taller and wilder and spent most her days on the wide open prairies of the Ponderosa, often accompanied by Rachel, whose mother spent her days in the small schoolhouse. But after school let out, Diana would drive out to the Ponderosa and the two would spend many happy evenings laughing and singing and telling stories with the Cartwrights. As time passed, Anne Marie couldn't help but notice the difference between herself and Rachel. Rachel was a very dainty girl and knew how to sew and cook and keep house. She, on the other hand, couldn't sew a single stitch and knew nothing about the kitchen. She could fish and climb trees and beat anyone who dared to challenge her in a game of checkers (her grandfather had even started teaching her chess), but femininity was not her strong suit. Still, she wanted to be ladylike and tie her hair with a ribbon and learn to cook. On days when Hop Sing did the laundry she insisted on helping him hang it on the lines outside and then fold it in neat stacks according to owner. She was willing to surrender anything, even the freedom of the great outdoors, in order to learn how to style her hair or hem a frock, but the one thing she would never give up was the time she spent in the barn with the horses.

Just as he had promised Avonlea, Hoss taught Anne Marie everything he knew about the majestic animals. He taught her what to the feed them and just how much. He taught her how to brush them down at the end of the day and occasionally let her feed them a lump of sugar or an apple. Her favorite horse was her mother's, Wildfire, who she was determined to ride as soon as she was big enough. The shimmering chestnut coat of the mare which sparkled a deep red in the sunshine reminded her of her own hair, and its great brown eyes, though they were soft and friendly, filled her with a compelling desire to mount up and race off across the hills of the Ponderosa under the bright blue sky into the golden rays of the shining sun, running faster and faster until she could barely breathe. Hoss saw this excitement in his niece's eyes and it warmed his heart to sees hers beating in perfect time with her mother's.

"Annie's birthday's comin' up," Hoss said to Joe one afternoon, pounding another stake into the fence they were mending.

"Yeah, don't remind me," Joe said with a chuckle. "The little rascal's growin' so fast I can't keep up with her."

"Well, I think she's gettin' old enough to start ridin', so I thought I'd get her a pony for her birthday."

Joe was silent as he continued his work, considering the proposition. "I guess you're right," he said finally.

"Now, Joe, wha'cha afraid of?"

"I don't want her hurtin' herself."

"I won't let her do nothin' like that. Ya know I won't let her outta my sight."

"I know that. I'm just worried, that's all."

"She's gotta learn sometime. 'Sides, this is somethin' Avvie wanted for her, and I reckon ya know that as much as I do."

"I do," Joe said softly, turning his head away from his brother. He looked up into the great expanse of cloudless blue above them and sighed, then a gentle smile graced his features as he turned back to Hoss. "I can't argue with her mother, can I?"

Hoss grinned.

* * *

Anne Marie peeked her head around the corner of the doorway that led to the kitchen before entering. She knew Hop Sing went out every day at this time to feed the chickens, but she wanted to make doubly sure the coast was clear. The Chinese cook rarely ever allowed her in his kitchen, much less any of the other Cartwrights, and when he did she was never, under any circumstances, permitted to touch anything. Sometimes he let her watch him when he was cooking a roast or baking a cake, and if she caught him in an exceptionally good mood he might even let her dip her finger into the bowl to eat the last morsel of frosting. Still, the kitchen was Hop Sing's domain and the idea that Anne Marie would need to learn how to cook for a family of her own one day had never even occurred to him. He was a touchy man and easily aggravated, and so, though she loved him dearly, Anne Marie was somewhat afraid to ask him to show her the ropes since she was almost certain he would refuse.

But her patience had worn thin. After hearing Rachel talk about baking a cake with her mother the previous weekend, she decided she would just have to try it herself. She was sure she could manage, having observed Hop Sing on several different occasions. She would do it all by herself, and when he saw how beautiful it was and tasted how light and fluffy and sugary sweet she had made it, maybe then he would realize that she wasn't a child anymore and certainly old enough to start learning how to cook. She could smell the beef he had just put in the oven and knew it would cook for a good while longer, so she assumed she had a fair amount of time to accomplish her goal. Still, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder as she hunched over the recipe book Hop Sing had left lying out on the counter. Ben was at his desk quietly going over the month's figures, Joe and Adam were out with the hands, and Hoss had gone into Virginia City for the day. She would have no better opportunity.

Several large cupboards ran along the back wall on either side of the great oven. Anne Marie rummaged through them until she found a bowl she deemed large enough for her endeavor. She pulled out the jars of flour and sugar and took several eggs, the jug of milk, and the tub of butter out of the icebox. After selecting a wooden spoon to mix with, she got to work. She pulled a wobbly stool up to the long, tall counter and perched on top of it, tucking her skirts underneath her knees. Only then did she realize that she couldn't read a word of Hop Sing's chicken scratch. The recipes in the book were in English, but he had edited them with his own notes and corrections (all in Chinese, of course) and marked the pages up so much that she couldn't make head or tail of it. But she had decided to bake a cake, and bake a cake she would.

She scooped several lumps of flour into the bowl then dumped two times as many scoops of sugar on top of it. After mixing these together and succeeding in coating herself in a thick layer of the white mixture, she added the butter, but it was so hard and sticky that she lost even more flour and sugar trying to blend them together. After replenishing the ingredients she had lost, she turned to the eggs. She had seen Hop Sing crack them open and deposit their membranous insides into many a dish, but doing it herself was another matter entirely. Her dress was stained with at least five yellow splotches when she was through, and the contents of the bowl were slimy at best with several large fragments of eggshell floating in them. She didn't think it looked quite right, all lumpy and slimy, but she was certain the milk would help.

The large jug was heavy, but she steadied one side against the counter and began to tip the opening toward the bowl. She hadn't noticed the stool gradually slipping further and further away from the counter, skidding along the floor in a pool of egg whites and melted butter. Suddenly it slid out from under her, and Anne Marie toppled to the floor, losing her grip on the milk jug and the bowl, which came crashing down around her and doused her from head to foot in the soggy mess. She heard thundering footsteps running through the main room, and the next thing she knew Ben was standing in the doorway.  
"Anne Marie!" he shouted, rushing to her side and yanking her up off the ground. His eyes darted up and down her body frantically, searching for any sign of injury. "What in the world?"

"I, I wanted to make a cake," she said sheepishly, unable to look her grandfather in the eye.

"And you couldn't ask Hop Sing to show you how?"

"He wouldn't show me. You know he wouldn't," she retorted.

Ben sighed. "Are you all right?"

She nodded.

"Just look at this mess, and your clothes."

"I'll clean it up."

"I think cleanin' up is the least of your worries, Anne Marie."

Anne Marie turned to look over her shoulder where Ben's eyes were fixed, and a shiver of fear ran up her spine at the figure of Hop Sing standing in the open doorway, his face redder than a beet.

He surveyed the sticky floor and gooey, oozing mess that coated Anne Marie, and suddenly burst out in a wave of Chinese obscenities, directed at no one in particular.

"Hop Sing!" Ben shouted, and he continued to shout his name for the next minute, finally managing to get his attention. "Hop Sing, calm down!"

"What happen?" the cook cried.

"I think Anne Marie was attempting to make a cake," Ben replied.

"What she do in Hop Sing kitchen?"

"Anne Marie?" Ben looked back at the girl inquisitively, indicating that it was her turn to talk.

She gulped. "I wanna learn how to cook," she said, looking straight into Hop Sing's eyes.

"This Hop Sing kitchen!"

"Rachel knows how to cook! Her ma shows her! How am I gonna be a lady if I don't know how to cook?"

Hop Sing looked from Anne Marie to Ben, who offered no answer in his expression; in fact, his features seemed to be posing the question as well.

"You clean mess, I teach you," he decided.

Anne Marie's mouth broke out into an overwhelming smile and her eyes sparkled. "Really?"

Hop Sing nodded firmly.

"You promise?"

"You think Hop Sing tell lie?"

She shook her head violently. "No, Hop Sing."

"Clean kitchen," he said.

"I will. Can I change my dress first?"

He nodded again.

"Oh, thank you, Hop Sing!" And suddenly Anne Marie ran into the man's arms, wrapping her own about him and covering his shirtfront in the white paste that was caked to her skin and dress.

Hop Sing was speechless. He didn't know whether to squirm away in disgust or hug her back.

Ben grinned then broke the awkward moment for Hop Sing's sake, tapping Anne Marie on the shoulder. "All right, young lady," he said as she pulled away. "Go get cleaned up as best ya can. We'll run a bath for ya tonight."

She nodded then skipped out of the kitchen. Seconds later Ben heard her soft footfall on the stairs and smiled. He turned to Hop Sing, who was still somewhat stunned by the scene that had just transpired.

"I'm sorry about the mess, Hop Sing. I'll see to it that she cleans every last floorboard. She just wants to learn to be a woman. Lord knows she doesn't get much chance around here."

"I teach Missy Anne Marie to cook," Hop Sing said with finality.

"You've made her very happy," Ben said.

The faint traces of a smile began to form on the cook's face, and by the time Ben left the kitchen it had materialized into a full grin.

That night around the dinner table, Anne Marie received her share of both scolding and congratulations alike, but when Hop Sing brought out dessert there was an extra slice of cake on her plate, much to Hoss's chagrin.


	5. A Memorable Birthday

Well, here comes the next chapter. I'm so glad you're all enjoying it so far. This next chapter is a little shorter, but don't worry, the action is building. Note!

islaboe: I just wanted to thank you for all of the loyal reviews. I really enjoy hearing what everyone is thinking chapter by chapter. In the previous chapter I was really trying to show Anne Marie's relationship with Ben as well as get Hop Sing a little more involved since his life would also affected by the presence of a girl in the house more so than it would have been if Joe had had a boy. That's why I didn't delve much into the way Joe would have handled the situation. However, in retrospect I believe the situation would have seemed much more amusing to Joe since Ben had already handled it and Anne Marie had cleaned up the mess. The opportunity to ruffle Hop Sing's feathers would be funny to all of the Cartwrights, especially Joe since he's the youngest, even though he's a father as well now. Just wanted to let you know a little of what I was thinking when I wrote that scene. And don't worry, Anne Marie at school is definitely in the very near future for this story. :)

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Now, no peekin', Annie," Hoss said, bending down to look into Anne Marie's face to make sure her eyes were shut tight.

"I'm not peekin'," she assured him.

"Put your hands over your eyes," he insisted.

"Uncle Hoss!" She sighed, but her mouth was laughing as she placed her hands over her eyes for good measure.

Joe sighed as well and rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Hoss."

"Okay, Joe, bring her out here." Hoss opened the front door and hurried out into the yard as Joe led his daughter behind him at a much slower pace. Ben, Adam, and the Cunninghams followed.

"All right now, you can open 'em!" Hoss called.

Anne Marie lifted her hands and opened her eyes to find her uncle standing beside a small, dapple-gray pony with the widest grin she had ever seen fairly beaming off of his face. She blinked twice, eyes wider than two silver dollars, and her mouth hung open.

"Happy birthday!"

"Sh-she's for me?" Anne Marie pointed to the beautiful horse.

Hoss nodded. "Ya gotta start practicin' if you're gonna ride Wildfire some day." He was so proud of himself and the reaction he'd received that he could barely contain it.

"Well, go on." Little Joe chuckled and gave her a small shove to get her feet moving.

Anne Marie staggered over to her uncle's side and looked up into his large face questioningly.

"She's all yours, Annie," he said. "Now, ya wanna mount up?"

"Can I?" Her voice trembled with a mixture of trepidation and excitement.

"What'd I jus' tell ya? Course ya can, she's yours," Hoss repeated. "Now, ya always mount up on the left side so's ya don't spook 'em. Put your foot right there." He made sure her small foot was positioned firmly in the stirrup then helped her grab hold of the horn and push herself up on top of the animal. Standing back to take in the whole picture, the man was overcome with admiration.

Finally, he nodded. "She suits ya," he said decisively, then looked back at his brother. "What d'ya think, Joe?"

"I think she looks pretty as a picture," Joe said with his own nod of approval. He had been watching the whole scene with a soft ache in his heart, reminded of the first time he had ever helped Avonlea mount Wildfire. But the ache wasn't a bad ache; it was dull yet persistent. It was reminiscent and comforting, as if he could feel Avonlea beside him smiling upon Anne Marie just as he was, and it made him miss her, not mourn her.

"Can I go for a ride, Pa, can I?" she asked eagerly.

"In a little while; I think ya still have some presents to open," he replied with a playful smirk as Hoss helped her down from the pony.

Before going inside though, Anne Marie stood right in front of the horse's face and stoked its soft, warm nose, staring into its big, round brown eyes.

"What are ya gonna call her, Anne Marie?" Rachel asked, sidling up beside her.

She considered the question very seriously, wrinkling her brow as she studied the pony, searching for the right name.

"Polly," she said finally.

"Say, that's perfect," Ben said triumphantly. "Polly the pony."

"Can I pet her?" Rachel asked timidly.

Anne Marie smiled and nodded, then Hoss took Polly to the barn and she tagged along so she could brush her down while the rest of the party went back into the house.

Hop Sing had a large, pink cake with the words "Happy Birthday Anne Marie" in fluffy white lettering displayed proudly on the table when they walked in. There were several boxes on the table as well with bright-colored ribbons tied about them. Diana gave Anne Marie a dress she had sewn for her doll; Little Joe and Ben gave her a selection of new outfits that included several blouses and a riding skirt for her lessons with Hoss; but Adam, after they had finished their cake, brought out a large wooden box and set it on the coffee table.

"Now, Anne Marie," he said, "you've had quite a birthday, and you've gotten a lot a big things 'cause you're gettin' to be such a big girl. You'll be goin' to school in the fall. None of us can believe how fast you've grown. I wasn't sure when to give this to you, but after seein' you on top a that pony I knew this was the time."

Adam opened the box to reveal her mother's guitar with the wooden horse carved into its body resting in the same turquoise satin it had in years past when he had first given it to Avonlea.

"This was your mother's guitar. Before she died she asked me to pass it on to you, and I think you're old enough now to take care of it."

The girl was speechless for a moment, taken aback at the sentimentality of the gift. All she could do was stare at the beautiful instrument in its case. Looking up at Adam she asked, "W-will you teach me to play it?"

Adam chuckled. "That was the idea."

"Thank you, Uncle Adam!" she cried, throwing her arms tight about the man's neck and kissing him on the cheek.

"You're welcome, Annie," he said with a smile, pulling her in close.

* * *

"I can't believe how much they've grown in the past year alone," Diana sighed in amazement, seated between Little Joe and Adam on the porch with a cup of tea. Out in the yard, Hoss was giving Anne Marie her first riding lesson while Rachel watched with much interest.

"Too fast," Joe said in agreement.

"She'll be breakin' all the boys' hearts soon enough," Adam joked, and Joe tossed him a threatening look.

"If any boy so much as looks at her the wrong way I'll knock him senseless."

Adam chuckled. "Now how are you gonna do that, Joe? Roy'd lock you up before ya even got a chance to teach 'im a lesson."

Diana smiled as she watched Joe's features harden even more as he said, "I'd teach 'im a lesson, all right."

She loved his hotheaded nature and the way his nostrils flared when he got angry, especially in Anne Marie's defense. However, even though they had spent many evenings together over the past year, Diana felt as if she hardly knew the man. They didn't seem to share any of the same interests, whereas she and Adam connected on everything. On numerous occasions he would lock her into an intellectual discussion in which he was completely engaged, but she found herself wondering when Little Joe would speak to her. She couldn't deny that Adam was brilliant and handsome and supplied her with delightful company and stimulating conversation. He had an appealing amount of sophisticated charm that Joe lacked, but there was still something about the young cowboy that intrigued her. Maybe it was the boyish grin he still possessed despite his state of fatherhood, or the way he flew off the handle at every little bump in the road. Whatever it was, she longed to be closer to him, but he hardly seemed to notice her presence, while Adam paid her all the attention any woman could ever desire.


	6. The First Day

Well, here comes the next chapter. Again, I want to thank all of you for your encouraging reviews. Please keep 'em coming, and if you haven't reviewed yet, I would love to hear your thoughts too! Note!

islaboe: Anne Marie is both spoiled and sweet. She has the genuine Cartwright heart - tried and true, honest, kind to those less fortunate, and very stubborn at times. These different parts of her personality will shine through at different points along her journey, but since she's so young right now they're not all fully developed yet. Of course, at the same time, as the only girl in the family she's also slightly spoiled - a fact she's not really aware of yet but will soon come to realize. Keep reading!

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Adam Cartwright was no fool. He could see the gleam in Diana's eyes when she looked at his younger brother – the gleam that seemed to all but vanish when she looked at him. He had seen that look in many women's eyes before, and it had always been directed at Little Joe. Ordinarily this attraction she had to another man would have immediately turned him off, and he would have easily proceeded in an enjoyable but strictly amicable acquaintanceship. But there was something about Diana he couldn't seem to shake loose from his mind. She consumed his thoughts as no one else ever had in an incredibly uncharacteristic way to the point where it had started to aggravate him. He would leap at the chance to take Anne Marie over to the Cunninghams' to play with Rachel or to drive over and repair a leaky roof or re-shoe a horse. He felt as foolish as Little Joe in his youth and as giddy as a schoolboy when she smiled approvingly upon his work, and it frustrated him.

Little Joe had changed since Avonlea's death. While there had been several opportunities over the past eight years for him to remarry, he never had. It was as if the man's sense of romance had died along with his wife. The first few years had been a blur for all of them, attempting to raise a small child and deal with their grief at the same time. Anne Marie had required so much attention that her needs were a welcome distraction to the rest of the family, but on multiple occasions Joe had pulled away from them, unable to cope with the trauma of such loss. In recent years he had finally begun to come out of the shell no one ever knew he had, but his love for Anne Marie was the only love he knew or wanted to know anymore. Avonlea had been the only other love of his life. Though he was still as charismatic and flirtatious as ever, there was very little real feeling behind his actions, and somewhere within him Adam knew his brother would never love again.

In some small way (of which he was desperately ashamed), he felt as if Diana's affection was wasted upon Little Joe, and not simply because he found himself slightly jealous but because he knew her feelings would never be requited. Little Joe felt no attachment to this resident beauty, even though he would be the first to agree with Hoss when he said she was quite a "pretty lil' filly," and she certainly was that. Adam had known many beautiful women in his day, and had even loved a few of them, but he had never met anyone as irresistible as Diana. Her hair was as dark as his own, and her eyes were so piercingly blue that they seemed to stare straight through him. However, if she had been nothing more than a pretty face his desire for her company wouldn't have lasted much longer than a summer fling. As it was, he found himself longing for her presence just as strongly as he had upon their first meeting over a year ago. At first he had been confused and even a bit shocked by his feelings, but, being the intellect that he was, he had quickly reasoned out a suitable conclusion. Not only was she attractive, she was educated. There was an elegant refinement to her mannerisms that he admired and cherished, and the fact that she could offer him a thought-provoking conversation on a starry night only whetted his appetite for her companionship.

On this the first day of school, he opted to ride with Little Joe and Ben to the schoolhouse to see Anne Marie off, but more importantly to see Diana. She stood in the doorway of the little one-room building with a warm smile on her pink lips, welcoming each of the children as they crossed the threshold.

"Why, Anne Marie," she exclaimed in mock surprise, "what are you doing here? You can't possibly be starting school already."

The girl smiled graciously. "You know I just turned eight, Mrs. Cunningham."

"So you did. Well, come on in. Rachel's already inside and I believe she has a seat for you. But remember, if you girls don't behave I'll have to separate you."

"Did you hear Mrs. Cunningham, Anne Marie?" Ben asked when she didn't respond.

She nodded as Joe squatted to straighten her bonnet and plant a kiss on her cheek. "Be good, flower," he said, "and have a good time. Hop Sing packed ya plenty a food for lunch."

"I know, Pa," she said, slightly annoyed at his doting as she watched the other children filing in without incident.

"This won't be such a production every day," Adam said to Diana with a chuckle, folding his arms before his chest as he looked down upon Little Joe and Anne Marie.

"It's sweet," she said, observing Joe tenderly.

"Well, she'll be spoiled rotten if we keep it up much longer," he said, trying again.

"Adam Cartwright, you're just as bad, and don't you be denying it."

He smirked. "Are you calling my bluff?"

She nodded with her own playful smirk in response. "I am."

"I admit my poker face is a bit rusty. I'm out a practice."

She chuckled.

"Well, we'd better get goin'. Hoss is waiting for us in the north pasture," Ben said as Little Joe stood, then he bent to embrace his granddaughter.

"Hop Sing's makin' you a big supper tonight, then you can tell us all about your first day at school," he said. "I love you."

"I love you too, Grandpa," she said, kissing his cheek quickly and praying the older children didn't notice.

"Have a good day, Annie," Adam said with a nod.

She smiled and nodded back over her shoulder, then hurried into the schoolhouse.

* * *

Anne Marie sat down next to Rachel and folded her skirts underneath her, smoothing them out over her knees. Her mouth was full of questions for her friend about the other children in the class. Since she lived in town, Rachel was much more familiar with them than she was. Anne Marie had seen them in church and in town whenever she accompanied her family, but she had very little contact with them. She immediately noticed that her dress was fluffier and lacier and brighter, and she felt slightly uncomfortable and embarrassed. Her frocks were a bright, sunshine gold, as was her bonnet, and, though she felt pretty in it, it was becoming more and more obvious to her that these dresses were only meant for Sunday mornings. The little girls around her wore simple, lace-less dresses in muted tones with pretty ribbons strung through their hair. Even Rachel's attire made her feel out of place, and she couldn't help feeling like the boys and girls alike were all staring at her.

"Could you teach me to tie a ribbon like that?" Anne Marie asked, pointing to Susie Carmichael's shimmering blonde hair in which a pretty blue ribbon was tied.

"It's not hard," Rachel replied.

"Well, my pa can't tie a ribbon to save his life, and my grandpa and uncles aren't any better. It's hard bein' the only woman around the house."

Rachel nodded in understanding. The situation was obviously serious.

"I need to start buyin' my own dresses too. I don't think Pa understands that school isn't the same as church."

"It's probably changed a lot since he was little," Rachel agreed. "I think Ma has a lot of cloth up in the attic. I can give you some if you want so you can make your own dresses."

Anne Marie lowered her eyes to the floor and mumbled, "I don't know how to sew."

Rachel was nothing short of amazed, but quickly replaced her shocked expression with one of humility with just the slightest hint of pity. "Well, I'm not that good yet, Ma's still teachin' me. I'm sure she'd teach you too."

Anne Marie lifted her eyes hopefully.

"Why don't you ride home with us after school?" Rachel suggested.

She nodded as Diana rapped on the desk with her ruler, her eyes fixed on her daughter and her friend. She frowned upon them, her brow knitted in stern solemnity. Suddenly Anne Marie realized that the rest of the class had fallen silent and school had already begun. She and Rachel had been the only ones talking. Her face colored a conspicuous shade of red, which only made her more embarrassed.

"If you two can't be quiet, I'll separate you," Diana scolded, her eyes roving back and forth from Rachel to Anne Marie. "Consider this a warning."

* * *

For Anne Marie the day felt unbearably long. She had never sat still for so long in her entire life, even in church, and she wondered how she was ever going to manage it for months on end. To her credit, she did try to pay attention for the first hour or so, but her mind quickly drifted to other matters. She watched the other girls and boys studying dutifully as she should have been, but she couldn't seem to keep her eyes on her work. She found this setting incredibly dull compared to her days on the Ponderosa, even though she was now surrounded by company her own age. The only thing that interested her was analyzing the other students – how they dressed and how they conducted themselves and if she thought they would ever be friends. Most she knew by name but few had she ever actually conversed with. Some of the girls looked prissy, their faces screwed into cheeky reverence in order to impress Diana, but Anne Marie knew better. The rest of the girls looked timid, almost lifeless, as if they hadn't a single idea of their own, and these bored her. Rachel even bored her to some extent, but Anne Marie made allowances for her, of course, because she was her friend.

The boys, however, were much more entertaining. When Diana's back was turned, the mischievous ones would untie the girls' hair ribbons and loop them through the holes carved into the backs of the benches, causing the girls to squeal when they tried to stand up again, and at one point Anne Marie would swear she saw the blonde boy across the row slip a slimy, wart-covered toad into the lunch pail of the pretty brunette in front of him. She grinned. It wasn't as though she condoned their behavior, but, if nothing else, growing up in a house full of men had given her a great appreciation for a good joke. She knew it wasn't ladylike, but at times she couldn't stifle the giggle that would bubble up inside of her.

After school Anne Marie rode home with Diana and Rachel in their tiny buggy, forgetting all about the fact that Hoss was coming to get her. When he arrived (several minutes late) and found the place empty with no sign of Anne Marie anywhere, the big man hurried the horses back to the Ponderosa as fast as the rig would allow, bursting through the front door in a panic.

"Well, where's Anne Marie?" Joe asked flippantly, looking up from the couch. His eyes considered the empty space behind his older brother, fully expecting his daughter to come skipping through the door in his wake.

"She wasn't there."

"What?" Ben threw his newspaper onto the coffee table and Adam looked up from the rifle he was cleaning.

Hoss nodded. "Jus' what I said, Pa, she wasn't there."

"Did ya ask Diana?" Adam asked.

"She wasn't there neither," he replied, shaking his head. "The school was locked up."

Joe leapt up off the couch, his chest heaving. "I told ya not to be late, didn't I?"

"Joe," Ben said, raising his voice and cocking a threatening eyebrow.

"I wasn't that late, Joe, jus' a few minutes, I reckon. I ran into Carol Johnson on the way, and ya know how she talks."

Ben smirked, but Joe was hardly amused.

"Well, where is she?" he demanded.

"I'm gonna find her if I have to tear this whole country apart with my bear hands," Hoss promised his brother, his jaw set.

"Now, look, you're all forgettin' the most logical explanation is that she's with Rachel and Diana," Adam said.

"I'm goin' over there," Joe said immediately.

"I'll go, Joe," Adam offered.

Joe shook his head, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and his hat onto his head. "I've gotta have a talk with my daughter about doin' what she's told." And with that he rushed out the door.

Arriving at the Cunningham house half an hour later, Joe rapped smartly on the door, attempting to calm himself before Diana answered it.

"Oh, Little Joe, good evening, come in."

"I was actually just stoppin' by-" Before he could finish the sentence he spied Anne Marie over Diana's shoulder, sitting in the floor of her parlor with Rachel. The two girls were surrounded by an eclectic array of dress patterns, which were spread out before them.

"Anne Marie!" He brushed past Diana as if she were invisible as the little girl immediately hopped onto her feet.

"H-hi, Pa," she said sheepishly, eyes on her feet.

"Why weren't you waitin' at the schoolhouse when Hoss came to get you?"

"Guess I forgot."

"Oh, Joe, I'm so sorry. I should have known one of you'd be coming to get her."

"Anne Marie should've remembered." Joe cocked an accusatory eyebrow at his daughter.

"I'm sorry, Pa. Rachel promised she'd teach me to sew so I can make my own dresses."

The young man's features softened at this last statement as he recognized the thirst in the girl's eyes – a thirst that he could not quench – and his heart broke. He sighed.

"C'mon Anne Marie, we'll talk about it later. Hop Sing's got supper waitin'."

"I'm sorry, Joe," Diana said again, showing them to the door. "I'm sure you were frantic."

He mustered a dazzling smile as he followed Anne Marie outside. "No harm done."

"I'd be more than happy to teach her to sew," she said.

"We might just have to take ya up on that. We do what we can, but a house full a men isn't much substitute for her mother," Joe said.

Diana nodded. "I worry about Rachel growing up without a father too. If there's ever anything I can do, don't even think twice."

"Thank you, Diana," he said, and when he did her heart felt as if it had skipped a beat. His expression was so soft and sincere she could have stared at his face for hours, and the way he said her name made her want to melt like snow under the sunshine. She blushed so severely it almost startled her then quickly closed the door behind him.


	7. Christmas Cheer

Well, here comes the next chapter. Please review if you read! I'd love to know what everyone's thinking now that the story has several chapters under its belt. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

The lingering remnants of summer were soon swallowed up in the shimmering world of fall. The sweet smells of ginger and cinnamon and pumpkin filled Hop Sing's kitchen, and the fire in the hearth burned brighter and felt warmer as the winds grew cooler with each passing day. Anne Marie hated school. Over the past few months she had made very few friends, and the walls around her seemed more like a prison than an opportunity to learn. She felt out of place and awkward amongst the other girls who seemed to stick up their noses whenever they walked by, and the boys hardly acknowledged her at all, though this at least was normal. The boys never acknowledged any of the girls except to tease them. She had never felt as lonely as she did inside the schoolhouse, even with Rachel seated beside her. The world outside her window, through which she longingly stared day after day, fairly begged her to fly out the door and never return, but day after day she somehow managed to stifle the urge to rebel. She liked Diana, and she loved riding home with her every afternoon for her daily sewing lesson. She was learning all sorts of stitches and had already sewn several dresses of her own. She was also learning to knit and quilt and crochet. Rachel showed her different ways to tie her hair ribbons and taught her to braid. She was becoming a real lady, and with each passing day the grin on her face grew wider.

Still, there was a wildness in her that found its spark in her mother but was set aflame by her father. The moments she felt most alive were when she could get away from the schoolhouse, mount Polly, and ride out across the vast frontier of the Ponderosa. Hoss had taught her well. Anne Marie rode fearlessly and confidently and hardly ever lost control of her horse. She and the animal were one; they understood each other and loved each other and, most importantly, trusted each other. Every evening after dessert Anne Marie went out to the barn to brush Polly's pretty gray coat. As she brushed she would croon the songs Adam was teaching her to play on her mother's guitar.

On Saturdays Hop Sing dutifully instructed her in the culinary arts, bestowing upon her the responsibility of making supper for the family. With each meal Anne Marie's cooking got better and she needed less of his instruction. But her favorite days were Sundays, when Little Joe took her riding. She loved riding with her uncles and her grandfather, but the time she spent with her father was special. She knew it was something he and her mother used to do together, and more than anything else Anne Marie strove to be like her mother. Sometimes they would race, but Joe would always let her win. Sometimes they would ride into Virginia City so she could pick out some new material for her ever-growing collection of dresses. Sometimes he would take her to places on the Ponderosa she'd never seen before. And sometimes he would take her to his favorite spot, the one he had shared with Avonlea. They would sit by the banks of the small pond there and he would tell her stories about her mother. Those were the best days.

But these days were becoming fewer and further between. Winter was coming, and even though Hoss had bought Anne Marie a riding jacket, the bitter breeze blowing in her face was more than she could stand. The days were growing shorter, and in response she cozied up to the fire with the quilt she was making and passed many quiet hours there while Ben read to her from her favorite book, _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_.

Christmas was coming, and the thing Anne Marie wanted more than anything was a kitten, just like Alice. Rachel had a cat, and she didn't think it was fair that Rachel could have a cat and she couldn't. She had hinted at it for weeks, and even though the last thing Ben wanted was a kitten running around the house, he just couldn't resist. Besides, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Rachel's cat had just given birth to six fluffy balls so tiny they fit in her hand, and by Christmas Eve they had grown just old enough to leave their mother. The only problem was which one to choose. Finally Ben selected the black kitten with creamy white paws and a white chest. He hurried it home and kept it in his room with a saucer of milk and a box of sand.

As he shut the door behind him, all was quiet for a moment. Then the cat began to whine. Little Joe, who was walking down the hall, stopped short and turned to look at his father.

"What's that noise?"

"What noise?" Ben asked as if he were five years old.

The cat meowed again.

"_That_ noise," Joe said, reaching for the doorknob.

"Don't open that door, Joseph," Ben said, raising his voice just before his son could turn the handle.

Joe looked at the man in consternation.

The cat meowed again and realization struck.

"Pa, ya didn't."

Ben didn't say a word.

"I thought ya didn't want a cat in the house."

"I don't, but if Anne Marie promises to take care of it I suppose I can get used to it."

Little Joe smirked, took another bite of the apple he was eating, and continued on down the hall, shaking his head in amusement as he went.

* * *

This Christmas wasn't a particularly joyous time for the entire Cartwright household; in fact, it was giving Adam fits. He wanted to give something to Diana, but nothing too showy or grand, just a token of his affection. He wanted it to speak something slightly more than friendship but nothing that would make him appear pushy or overeager. He had to tread lightly. The week before Christmas, Ben noted that his eldest son was more quick-tempered than usual with his brothers and didn't seem to have the time for Anne Marie that he often did. He rode into town nearly every day after finishing his work and kept to himself, brooding about the house. But, unlike Little Joe, Adam rarely talked openly about his feelings, even with his father. Ben knew better than to try to bring it up. If he needed to talk about it, his son would come to him. The unfortunate thing was that he didn't have a clue what could be bothering him. Normally he had some inkling of what was on Adam's mind, but in this particular instance he was clueless, which was exactly the way Adam wanted it.

Most men would simply buy her a new hat, something elaborate and expensive, or perhaps a dress with dozens of ruffles that she could wear to the next party where he would swoop her into the room on his arm. But Adam looked down his nose at such a gesture. It was trite and common and impersonal, and he considered himself anything but. He thought of the things he admired about Diana – her knowledge and wit and genteel spirit – and his mind continually made its way back to one idea: a book. It was a perfect symbol of their relationship and an object he knew she would treasure, judging from the giant shelf that stood in her parlor.

On Christmas day the Cunninghams arrived at the Ponderosa just before noon. Ben knew it must be a difficult time for Diana without her husband, who had died three years ago of typhoid fever, two days before Christmas. In an attempt to escape the memories, she had sold her husband's store in Kansas to his younger brother, pulled up stakes, and headed west. When she and Rachel reached Nevada Territory something within her, something she couldn't explain, told her it was time to stop running, and when the teaching position fell in her lap she deemed it providence. She was there to stay.

The Cartwrights and the Cunninghams had a splendid time together singing carols and drinking hot cider. Hop Sing roasted a duck and Anne Marie prepared a pumpkin pie for dessert. After the feasting had subsided and the two families were nestled quietly and contentedly about the fire, Ben presented Anne Marie with her Christmas gift. He disappeared into his room, commanding the girl to stay put, but when she caught a glimpse of the small black and white kitten in his arms as he walked back down the stairs, Anne Marie leapt up off the couch, squealing with glee and extending her arms to take the kitten from her grandfather.

"Oh, Grandpa!" she cried, cradling the animal in her arms and rubbing her cheek up against its tiny face. "He's so cute!"

"I think it's a girl," Ben said, looking at Diana for approval.

She nodded.

Anne Marie smiled. "_She's_ so cute!" She turned to Rachel. "Is this one of your kittens?"

She nodded as well.

"Thank you so much!" She hugged Rachel quickly, then ran into Ben's arms and threw her own around his neck. "Oh, thank you, Grandpa!"

Ben chuckled and held her close. "Well, I knew how much you wanted one."

"Now, don't forget that she's your responsibility, Anne Marie," Joe said as she pulled away from Ben and plopped down on the floor with her gift.

"Yes, Pa," she said dismissively, immediately cutting some yarn from the ball she kept in her sewing basket by the fire.

"Before ya start playin' with the kitten, Anne Marie, I think you have a few other gifts to open," Adam said, handing her a small rectangular package wrapped in red paper and tied with a green ribbon. "This one sorta goes along with Pa's."

She took the package curiously and ripped off the paper to reveal a copy of Lewis Carroll's _Through the Looking Glass_.

"What-"

"It's the sequel to _Alice in Wonderland_. It was just published this year."

"You mean there's another one?"

Adam laughed. "Now there is."

"I love it, Uncle Adam!" she cried, and she hugged him too.

The gift giving continued, but the rest of her presents paled in comparison. However, Anne Marie was almost as excited to give as she was to receive, for this year she had been able to make her father, grandfather, and uncles each a scarf in preparation for the cold months ahead, and she had sewn a new dress for Rachel and an apron for Diana.

"It's beautiful, Anne Marie!" Diana cried, holding the apron out in front of her. It was made of pretty cream-colored cotton and embroidered with tulips – one pink, one purple, and one yellow.

Rachel nodded in agreement with her mother, admiring her own gingham dress, trimmed with white lace. "You did a wonderful job."

The Cartwrights presented Diana and Rachel with dresses of their own, and after another glass of cider the Cunninghams departed, walking out into the yard to wait for Hoss to bring the horses around. When he pulled up, Adam helped first Rachel then Diana into the rig, slipping packages much like Anne Marie's into their hands.

"Adam?" Diana looked up, bewildered.

"Just a little somethin' to say Merry Christmas," he whispered. "You can open 'em at home."

But Rachel had already started to unfold the paper around the book he had given her: _Little Women_. "Ma, look!" she exclaimed, holding it up for her to see.

Diana smiled and then looked down at the package in her own lap. She couldn't resist, and carefully removed the paper around her own gift.

"Oh, Adam," she breathed, clutching the book to her chest. It was a collection of poems written by Lord Byron, her favorite poet. "Where did you find this?"

"A friend a mine back east is an avid collector of British poetry. I managed to pry this one away from him, but it took some doing."

Diana gazed into his eyes, and in that moment she felt a slight twinge deep within her soul, so small she almost missed it. She didn't understand exactly what it was, but somehow it reminded her of her courtship with her late husband, Gilbert. He had been her dearest friend and understood every beat of her heart. Somehow she got the impression that Adam was like that. His companionship was so tender and comforting and warm, and he seemed to understand her in a way she had thought quite impossible at first. In fact, she didn't expect any man to understand her the way Gilbert had, even Little Joe. She was so caught up in his eyes she didn't realize she was staring, but when she heard Rachel's voice urging her to move the horses, she shook herself instantly and slapped the reigns so hard the horses fairly flew out of the yard.

Adam smiled as he watched the buggy disappear into the soft night, and behind him, underneath the overhang of the porch, Ben Cartwright nodded knowingly in response to the scene he had just witnessed.


	8. Like Father, Like Daughter

Well, here comes the next chapter. I think you'll all enjoy this one as it's one of the first where you will really see Anne Marie's "spirit," for lack of a better term. Anyway, enjoy and review! Notes!

islaboe: I think this may be the chapter you've been waiting for. :)

Liz: Thank you so much for your comment about the grammar. I spend hours reading and rereading my dialogue to make sure it flows and sounds just like the characters would on the actual show. Sometimes I'm not sure if I get it quite right either. I definitely want Ben and Adam (and even Joe at times) to sound more sophisticated, especially in relation to Hoss, but there are times in the show that even Ben or Adam drop a "ya" instead of a "you," or say "gettin'" instead of "getting." If you go back and watch the older episodes especially I think you'll notice that. Either way, I'm sorry if it's taking you out the story. I try to do it only when I think the words might be more slurred together naturally, regardless of education. Regardless, I do want their grammar to sound the way it does on the show, and I know Ben and Adam's speech is more sophisticated. I hope you're still enjoying the story and I understand where you're coming from. It's hard for me to read stories where the characters don't sound accurate because it takes me out of it too, that's why I try to be as accurate as possible and write in character. I hope it isn't completely distracting for you.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The harsh, unrelenting cold of January swept through the mountainous territory of Nevada just in time for school to resume. Every morning Little Joe tucked Anne Marie into the wagon underneath a pile of thick blankets. The cloak and mittens he and Hoss had given her for Christmas prevented any amount of skin from being exposed to the bitter weather save her face, and the ensemble left her feeling like a veritable Eskimo. She braided her hair now, preventing the hood of the cloak from turning her hair into one frizzy, tangled mess. Her father had also bought her a new pair of boots for her growing feet that she pulled up over her woolen stocking to keep her legs insulated. She found it interesting how exciting school had suddenly become. Now that it was too cold to even step outside without several layers of clothing on, the great outdoors were much less appealing, and the only thing her window offered her was acres upon acres of snow. She liked the snow well enough, but after about a month of it she was ready for spring. Unfortunately, she knew it would be several more months before she could even hope to see a touch of green.

There was a new face in class after the holidays – a boy with fiery red hair and a great field of freckles that spread from one ear to the other underneath his soft brown eyes. They reminded Anne Marie of her father's somehow, though she didn't know why. Little Joe's eyes snapped and sparked with passion whereas this boy's were soft and his expressions timid, almost demure. Still, there was something endearing about him as she watched him file in and take a seat next to Johnny Cole. He wore a shabby, heavily patched pair of overalls that looked so worn she wondered how the threads hadn't come completely unraveled, and the shirt underneath appeared just as old. His coat was thin and size and a half too small, and the boot on his left foot had a hole in the sole while the one on the right had a hole in the toe.

Johnny Cole wrinkled his nose as the boy sat down beside him and set his lunch pail on the floor.

"What d'ya think you're doin'?" he asked.

"Jus' sittin' here," the boy replied in a voice so soft it barely reached Anne Marie's ears.

"Well, ya can't sit there. That's Tyler's seat."

"What d'ya mean, Johnny? Tyler's family moved south before school let out for Christmas," Benji Clarkson said.

"It's still Tyler's seat," Johnny said.

"Well, yeah, but he ain't gonna be usin' it anymore."

"Shut up, Benji. I jus' don't want him sittin' there, all right?"

"How come?"

"'Cause he smells, that's why."

Benji leaned in close to the boy and sniffed, then he pulled back violently, his features twisted into an expression of disgust. "You're right, Johnny. Go sit somewhere else, kid."

The boy hung his head and started to get up when Anne Marie suddenly leapt up from her seat, her hands balled up in tight fists and her face burning with anger.

"You leave him alone!"

"Ah, shut up, rich girl. Nobody likes you either," Johnny said.

"I don't care. You can't hurt me, Johnny."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Now why don'cha just leave him alone? He's never done anything to you."

"He's stinkin' up the place!"

"You're a horrible boy, Johnny Cole!"

"You sit by 'im them."

"I will." She eyed the redheaded boy, who had been staring at her, wide-eyed, ever since she had taken up his defense. "Come sit by me," she said, indicating the empty space on the bench to her left.

The boy reached down and got his pail, then hurried over to Anne Marie.

"Don't pay any attention to Johnny," she told him, sticking her tongue out at the tow-headed boy across the aisle whose eyes were still fixed upon them. "He's just a bully."

"And you're just a spoiled lil' rich girl," Johnny shot back, returning the gesture. "Your pa gives ya whatever ya want. If ya ever wanna know why ya ain't got no friends, that's why."

Anne Marie's eyes swelled with tears but she refused to cry in front of the likes of Johnny Cole; besides, the entire schoolhouse was watching, waiting to hear her smart retort. She felt the children's eyes like hundreds of tiny pinpricks up and down her arms and legs, and her skin crawled. Her face was hot with rage and embarrassment and she wanted nothing more in that moment than to melt into the floorboards. She knew she couldn't hit Johnny. She didn't know the first thing about fighting, and if he retaliated he'd whoop her for sure. Besides, Diana said that ladies didn't fight with their fists, but with their eyes. In fact, ladies didn't really have fights at all; they had disagreements. Well, she knew one thing: this was more than just a disagreement. Johnny hadn't merely insulted the redheaded boy, or even her. He had insulted her father.

"I hate you, Johnny Cole!" she shouted.

"Anne Marie Cartwright!"

The room was silent as a tomb as Diana marched into the schoolhouse, right up to Anne Marie, and towered above her with her hands on her hips. Her eyes snapped with intolerable horror and Anne Marie cowered under her glare.

"What in heaven's name is going on?"

She lowered her head and gazed at the floor, wordless. There was an unspoken code that Anne Marie knew all children lived by, and she wasn't about to break that code by involving Diana in her argument with Johnny.

"I-it's nothin', Mrs. Cunningham," she stammered, studying the tops of her new boots with religious dedication.

"Nothing?" Diana was beside herself. "Anne Marie, you don't tell people you hate them, and I know you're too old not to know that."

She turned to Johnny then. "Johnny, would you care to explain why Anne Marie is so angry with you?"

"No, Ma'am," he said, his eyes instantly falling to the floor as well.

"Well, since both of you seem to be locked in vows of silence, you leave me no choice but to keep you in at recess while the rest of the class goes out to play. It will give you time to think about your appalling behavior. Now take your seats."

Anne Marie sat down between Rachel and the redheaded boy and stared bitterly out the window until the sound of her grandfather's rig outside called her off of the bench and whisked her away from the horrid schoolhouse. She was uncharacteristically quiet at supper that evening and merely pecked at her food. Joe eyed his father and brothers questioningly, but their baffled expressions supplied no answer. After the meal Anne Marie didn't much feel like playing her guitar with Adam or engaging Hoss in a game of checkers. She merely bid them goodnight, took the kitten she had fondly named Dinah in her arms, and trudged up the stairs to her room. Joe looked at Ben who simply nodded and said, "Go see what's wrong."

He sighed, getting up from the couch, and slowly climbed the stairs, knocking on Anne Marie's door softly. From the other side of the door she heard his muffled voice call, "Anne Marie?"

"Come in, Pa," she replied, pulling her nightgown down over her stomach so it hung about her ankles. As he entered she sat down before her vanity and untied the ribbon from her hair, letting it flow long and soft around her shoulders and down her back, then she began to brush it.

"Gettin' ready for bed?" he asked, sitting down on her bed beside Dinah who was curled up in a ball, asleep. The cat opened its eyes as the bed shook under his weight, annoyed at being awoken so suddenly, then it stretched and yawned and went back to sleep.

Anne Marie nodded.

"It's only seven thirty. Are ya all right, flower?"

"Yes, Pa."

"You're not feelin' sick, are ya?"

"No."

"Somethin' happen at school today?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine, just tired."

Joe studied his daughter skeptically for a moment or two, but finally sighed in defeat, rising to his feet. He ran a hand over Dinah's soft fur (which woke the cat once again) then planted a kiss on the top of Anne Marie's head.

"G'night, flower. Get some rest."

Just as he was about to walk out the door, Anne Marie, whose eyes had been fixed on her own reflection in the mirror, turned to look at him.

"Pa?"

"Yeah?" Joe turned around, his hand on the knob.

She stared at him for several seconds of silence, then finally said, "Nothing."

* * *

"Anne Marie?"

The redheaded boy sat down next to her in a corner of the small schoolhouse, slumping against the wall first before sliding down to the floor.

She and Rachel looked up from their lunch pails questioningly.

"Yeah?"

"I, I jus' wanted to thank ya for standin' up for me yesterday. Ya didn't have to do that."

"What's your name?"

"Matthew Finney."

"It's nice to meet you, Matthew. This is my best friend Rachel."

Matthew managed a small smile in the girl's direction. "You're Mrs. Cunningham's daughter, ain't ya?"

Rachel nodded.

"Where are ya from?" Anne Marie asked.

"Texas. Pa heard there was silver up this way, but he ain't havin' much luck findin' it."

"If he doesn't find it, will ya go back to Texas?" Rachel asked.

"I dunno." He shrugged.

"Do ya like Virginia City?"

"I guess so. Ain't got many friends yet."

"Ya got us."

Matthew simply stared at Anne Marie, taken aback by her generosity.

She smiled, leaned in closer to him, and whispered, "I don't have very many friends either. Now 'cause a Johnny I prob'ly won't for a long time, but I'll get 'im back."

"Anne Marie?" Rachel's voice sounded intrigued yet cautious.

"Nobody says anything bad about my pa without payin' for it."

And she meant it. Matthew and Rachel exchanged worried glances, but Anne Marie's jaw was set.

* * *

The wind was exceptionally blustery that day when Diana let the children outside for recess. The boys immediately took cover behind their snow forts to resume the was in which they were engaged, while the girls made impressions of angels with their bodies in the white fluff. Anne Marie and Rachel, together with their new friend Matthew, began building a snowman. Anne Marie had saved a carrot from her lunch for the nose, and while Rachel wrapped her scarf around its neck and Matthew gathers twigs for its arms, she searched for two small stones to mimic the eyes. Then she got an idea. Looking back over her shoulder, Anne Marie could see Johnny behind his fort in the heat of combat, rapidly firing snowball after snowball at the enemy. She looked down at the smooth rock in her hand, which fit perfectly in her palm, and a crooked smile spread across her lips. She quickly rolled it up in a hard ball of snow, carefully packing and repacking the frozen crystals around it until the object within was completely concealed, then she started toward the field of battle.

"Anne Marie!" Rachel cried. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching Johnny a lesson."

"Anne Marie!"

But her friend's cries were soon drowned out by the sound of the squealing students all around her as she inched closer to Johnny, moving from tree to tree to avoid being hit by a snowball herself. She just needed to get close enough to have one good shot. She couldn't afford to miss. He was only a few feet away now, so close that she could make out his obnoxious voice among the other boys' hollers. She swallowed hard, threw her shoulders back proudly, and jumped out from behind the tree.

"Johnny Cole!" she shouted.

The boy whipped around just in time to catch a glimpse of her long brown braids flying in the breeze before her snowball, with the rock inside, collided with his left eye. He let out a scream that rendered the entire schoolyard silent, and Diana rushed outside, pulling the right sleeve of her coat over her arm as she did so. Johnny lay sprawled on the ground, both hands over his eye, squirming and whimpering in pain. Anne Marie stood over him, glaring down at him with vengeance burning in her own eyes.

"Don't ever say anything bad about my pa again," she spat at him.

"Anne Marie!" Diana's face was as white as a sheet as she knelt beside Johnny and lifted his back up out of the snow so it wouldn't melt and soak through his clothes. "What happened?"

"Sh-she hit me with somethin'," Johnny choked.

"It was only a snowball."

"With a rock in it!" He opened his right eye and removed one hand to feel for the stone lying beside him in a pile of powder.

Diana turned to look at Anne Marie, absolutely horrified. "What would ever possess you?" She didn't wait for a response. "Inside now. C'mon, Johnny, let's have a look at that eye." She helped the boy to hit feet and led him back into the schoolhouse, Anne Marie falling in line behind her with the rest of the students.

Johnny's eye was puffy and red but turning violet by the second. The opening between his lids was a mere slit, and as Diana dabbed it with a damp cloth he wriggled under the pressure of her hand. The skin from the top of his cheekbone to the base of his eyebrow was tender and sore to the touch. As she cleaned his wound, Diana eyed Anne Marie every so often in her peripheral vision. The girl sat in her seat on the bench, her face buried behind her slate. The only time she looked up was to see the next problem on the large blackboard at the front of the room. Diana didn't have to ask her what had provoked such violence. She knew Little Joe's passion ran through her veins, but while it was attractive in her father, it was something vile in Anne Marie. She also knew the girl's actions were a result of her argument the day before, but this face was irrelevant. Regardless of what Johnny had said or done, she had to be punished and taught to control her temper. As far as Johnny was concerned, Diana was quite certain he had paid for his transgressions, and his black eye would serve as a reminder for the rest of the week.

"Anne Marie."

The child looked up over the rim of her slate fearfully.

"Come stand beside me," Diana said.

Her eyes filled with dread, for she knew what was coming. Rachel squeezed her hand as she rose from her seat and made her way down the aisle to stand beside her teacher's desk.

"I will not tolerate the kind of behavior you've displayed today in my school. Hold out your hand." She pulled a large ruler out of the top drawer.

Anne Marie bit her bottom lip so hard it started to bleed as the blows fell, one after the other, upon her open palm. It trembled from the repetitive sting of the thick wooden ruler that brought tears to her eyes, which collected along the bottom lid and finally trickled down her cheeks. When Diana noticed the tears she stopped. The poor girl's humiliation was complete, and she felt as if she might have gone too far.

That night Anne Marie complained of a stomach ache. She went straight to bed without supper and reported no improvement the following morning.

"You don't have a fever, flower," Joe said, touching his palm to her forehead.

"I still don't feel good, Pa," she said.

He sighed. "Well, I guess ya should stay home today. I'll get Hop Sing to bring up some hot soup."

"Pa?" Anne Marie stopped him at the door as she had two nights before.

He smiled and turned around. "Yeah?"

"Am I spoiled?"

Joe's eyes widened in surprise. Never in a million years had he expected her to say anything like that. He blinked, dumbfounded, then finally moved back into the room and sat down on the bed beside her.

"Now why would ya ask somethin' like that?"

"I dunno," she mumbled, "jus' wonderin'. Am I?"

"If you are, it's my fault, not yours."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What d'ya mean, Pa?"

"Well, your grandfather and uncles and I love you so much we want ya to have everything you could ever want, but sometimes we need to let ya earn stuff on your own instead a just givin' it to ya. Ya see, there are some things that mean more when ya work for 'em. That's what your grandfather did. The Ponderosa wouldn't mean half a what it does to 'im if he hadn't put his own sweat and blood into it. There are some things that are priceless because they're gifts, like Polly or your mother's guitar or Dinah there." He nodded toward the cat dozing by her side. "But, Anne Marie, there are other things that are priceless because no one will ever work as hard as you do to get 'em. Understand?"

She nodded. "I think so."

"Did somethin' happen at school?" he asked again.

She looked into her father's eyes then and offered a weak but unwavering smile. "It's all right, Pa," she said.

"Okay, flower," he whispered, planting a kiss on her forehead before exiting the room.


	9. Stubborn Streaks

So, I decided to rewrite my last chapter as I found it less than satisfactory. From the reviews I received, my audience agreed with me, but I think I'd just reached a writer's block and written it too fast in an attempt to break through it. I think this version should be much better. I've never done this before in any of my other stories, regardless of reviews, so that should go to show how upset I was with myself as writing something so out of character for the Cartwrights. I'm finding it harder to write as I continue on since we've never seen any of the boys as parents on the show. I want to make sure I'm staying true to the series while expounding on my own ideas at the same time. It's wonderful to imagine but sometimes it's hard getting my ideas on paper and putting them into words. Please let me know what you think of this version of the chapter in comparison to the other, or if it's your first time reading it at all, let me know what you think as well. Note!

Aurea: Thank you so much for your lovely review. It took me a long time to write anything for Bonanza because I love the show so much that I wanted to do it justice. It fills me up to know that you think I'm doing just that. Try your hand at it sometime. If you ever have anything you'd like me to read, let me know. I'm sure you could write a beautiful story of your own. Also, this is a sequel, so if you're enjoying it and would like to read the prequel I'd love your thoughts on it as well. The original is entitled "Back on the Horse" and you can find it on my profile page.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

The next morning Joe insisted that Anne Marie go to school, despite her insistence that she still didn't feel well. Her complexion was neither drawn nor pale, and she wasn't running a fever. In fact, nothing seemed to be the matter with the child at all save her demeanor. She had never appeared the slightest bit intimidated by anything in the past, but Joe now detected a nervousness in her as he lifted the girl up into the buggy, and he was certain he felt her body shaking as he tucked the blankets around her in preparation for the ride ahead. His first instinct was one of alarm, thinking her shivers to be chills, but he quickly dismissed the thought, as she showed no other signs of illness. He was confused and somewhat concerned by her strange behavior that only seemed to escalate, for the moment the schoolhouse appeared on the horizon, Anne Marie (who had been silent the entire trip), turned to him and said, "Pa, you can stop here."

He looked at her curiously. "What d'ya mean?"

"I can walk from here," she elaborated.

"Anne Marie, now what's this all about? It's ten below out here and you want me to drop ya off a mile and a half away."

"All the other kids walk to school, Pa, that's all."

"All the other kids live in town or just outside it. We live twenty miles away. Now d'ya wanna walk the whole way? You'd have to get up pretty early in the mornin'."

She was trying his patience.

Anne Marie shook her head. "No."

"So you just want it to _look_ like ya walked twenty miles."

"I guess so," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joe sighed. He didn't know what to make of her recent comportment, but he knew the catalyst lay within the confines of the small building on the horizon where Diana stood on the porch ringing the school bell and welcoming the children with rosy cheeks and a warm smile. Finally he pulled back on the reins, bringing the horses to a halt.

"All right," he said, hopping out of the rig to help Anne Marie unwind herself from the blankets. "I guess this is gonna be our normal routine from now on?"

She nodded.

"Well, I sure am glad I bought ya those boots for Christmas. Now, you be careful and stay off the road, ya hear? I not gonna have ya gettin' run over by a buggy that can't see ya."

"Yes, Pa. "

"Well, have a good day, flower." Joe moved to embrace her but thought better of it. The girl was growing up, and though it pained him to feel her drifting further away from him, he remembered that he was just about Anne Marie's age, if not slightly younger, when he became too old for his father's physical affection and much too old to stand idly by and endure his older brothers' jibes.

Over the next few weeks Little Joe noted several other changes in his daughter's attitude. She spent very little time with Rachel and expressed no interest in visiting the Cunninghams' house. She spoke scant amounts at supper and passed the long, dark evenings in her room, curled up with a book on her bed. Adam couldn't even seem to interest her in their nightly guitar lesson to which she had always looked forward in days gone by. But sometimes, when all was quiet, the Cartwright men would hear her softly strumming to herself.

"Something is bothering that child," Ben said after three painfully long weeks.

"I know, Pa," Joe said, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I didn't wanna push her to talk about it, but I think I'll ask Diana if anything's happened at school."

"That's a good idea."

"I don't know what's botherin' her, but I cain't stand to see her like this," Hoss said, his eyes roving upward where the soft melody of "Beautiful Dreamer" consumed the hall above, wafting sadly down the stairs and into his ears.

Joe couldn't bear it either. Anne Marie was so different from the adorable, precocious girl he loved so dearly. She was gloomy and subdued and it seemed to him as if all the spirit had been sucked right out of her. Fortunately the following day was a Saturday, and after he had finished his daily chores he set out for Virginia City , leaving Anne Marie quite occupied in the kitchen.

"Oh, Little Joe, what a nice surprise," Diana exclaimed, her face beaming as she opened the door and stepped aside to show the man into her home. "I was just about to put the kettle on. Would you care for some tea?"

"That sounds good," he replied, taking off his hat and sifting it through his hands. He felt suddenly apprehensive in her presence, unsure of how to bring up the subject of Anne Marie. Unlike his older brother, he lacked tact and subtlety, and he regarded the delicate art of beating around the bush as both unnecessary and, to a great extent, irritating.

He sat down on Diana's settee in the parlor while she prepared their refreshment in the kitchen, then bustled back in with a tea tray in hand. She gently rested it on the small coffee table in the center of the room and took a seat in the chair beside him.

"How do you take it?" she asked, her right hand lingering over the sugar bowl.

"Just the way it is'll be fine."

She smiled and handed him a cup and saucer, then helped herself to a lump of sugar which she stirred in slowly so as not to clink the spoon against the sides of the china.

They made the obligatory chitchat about the weather and the new goings on in town and how long it would be until the next big snow. Finally, when all the topics Joe could think of had been exhausted, he set his saucer down and bent over the table, resting his elbows on his thighs and folding his hands before his mouth.

"Well, Diana, I actually came to talk to you about somethin'," he said.

"Oh?" Her face colored instantly as she attempted desperately to hide a grin behind her teacup.

"Anne Marie's been acting strange lately and I just had a hunch you might know why."

Diana swallowed and set her cup down on the table as well, her grin all but vanishing. "Well, she and Johnny Cole had a disagreement a few weeks ago and I had to resort to physical punishment."

Joe's eyes widened instantly. "What did she do?"

"She threw a rock at his eye."

"What?"

"They had argued the day before. I don't know what it was about, but I heard her yelling choice words at Johnny. Neither of them would tell me what the argument was about, so I kept them in at recess and thought that was the end of it. I suppose it wasn't because the next day when I let the children out to play I heard Johnny scream and hurried out to find him lying in the snow. Anne Marie had thrown a snowball with a rock in it at him, and it hit him in the eye. I had to punish her."

"You hit her?"

"On the palm with my ruler."

Joe was utterly speechless. He didn't know what to be more appalled by, Anne Marie's behavior or the fact that Diana had struck his child. He lowered his head and reached for his empty teacup, twiddling his thumbs about the handle.

"Joe, she needs discipline," Diana said after a moment of icy silence.

His head snapped up and he peered into her bright blue eyes, a small flame springing up in his own, so infinitesimal it was almost undetectable. Almost. Diana recognized it immediately and knew she had to tread lightly if she wanted to avoid upsetting him any further.

"What d'ya mean?" he asked.

"What she did was not only violent but deceitful. Don't tell me you've never spanked her before."

"I've never laid a hand on her, and I've never needed to."

"Well, her behavior before may have been nothing more than childish pranks, but she's at a very impressionable age now and she needs to know there are consequences for her actions."

"She knows that."

Diana wasn't sure if he was contradicting her method of discipline or not. "Well, I did what I thought was best. You should talk to her about it. Johnny must've said something to upset her. I know she would never do anything like that without being provoked. She's such a sweet girl."

"Thank you, Diana," Joe said rather stiffly, rising to his feet.

The conversation was over. He couldn't sit still another minute longer. He felt conflicted and defeated, horrified that Diana had struck his child and mortified at the even greater thought that he had failed to perform his duties as an acceptable father. He had received more than his fair share of whippings from Ben as a child, and had Avonlea given birth to a son he wouldn't have thought twice. But the notion of striking a girl seemed inherently wrong to him and he cringed at the very thought. He counted himself lucky to have such a child as Anne Marie, even if he and his brothers and father had indulged her a bit too much. He had never expected to hear a report of this nature. Still, as he reviewed his conversation with Diana throughout the remainder of the afternoon, he couldn't ignore the obvious conclusion that she was right. Anne Marie may have already received her punishment at school, but the matter demanded his attention at home as well.

That night, after a very silent meal, just as Anne Marie was preparing to walk up the steps to her room, Joe stopped the girl and called her back downstairs. Adam and Hoss made themselves scarce, disappearing into the barn for the proceeding father/daughter scene they knew was coming, but Ben seated himself in his large red easy chair as he did every night to observe his son's parenting skills.

"Sit down, Anne Marie," Joe said.

She lowered herself onto the sofa beside him tentatively.

"I think you have somethin' to tell me."

"What?"

"I had a little talk with Diana today."

Her eyes enlarged instantly. "You did?"

"I was worried about you, the way you've been mopin' around the house lately, and I thought she might know what was botherin' you. She told me an interesting story about you and Johnny Cole."

"She did?"

He nodded. "Ya wanna tell me about it?"

Her father's glare seemed so unforgiving that she couldn't hold in the tears that had been forming any longer. The dam collapsed under the pressure and she threw her head in her hands, sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Pa!" she wailed. "I hit Johnny with a rock, but he said I was spoiled and I didn't have any friends and he was being so hateful to Matthew! He's just a big bully and Mrs. Cunningham doesn't know it."

"Wait a minute, slow down. Who's Matthew?"

"He's a new boy at school. He wears tattered clothes and his pa doesn't have any money, so Johnny was picking on 'im."

"And you stood up for him?"

Anne Marie nodded.

"That's a good thing, but ya should've told Diana Johnny was pickin' on 'im. It's her job to take care a Johnny, not yours. Understand?"

"I didn't throw a rock at 'im 'cause he was pickin' on Matthew," she said.

Little Joe scowled in disapproval. "Then why did you?"

"I was mad about what he said about you."

"What did he say?"

"He said I was spoiled 'cause you gave me everything I wanted and that's why I didn't have any friends."

Joe sighed. "So that's why ya asked me if you were spoiled."

She nodded. "None a the other kids at school ever talk to me, Pa, except for Rachel and Matthew. They all think I'm spoiled 'cause Grandpa's rich."

Ben's eyes widened but he remained silent.

"Anne Marie, listen to me. Bein' spoiled has nothin' to do with money."

"It doesn't?"

Joe shrugged and chuckled despite himself. "Okay, maybe a little, but it's really about your heart. You have a beautiful heart, Anne Marie, but when ya do things like ya did the other day, your heart looks ugly."

"But I don't ever want anybody to say anything bad about you, Pa. I love you."

"I love you too, flower," he said, "but I'm disappointed in you. I can take care a myself. You should know better than to do what you did. Don't you realize you could've blinded Johnny?"

Anne Marie was dismayed at the very thought. Her pupils dilated and the whites of her eyes widened to form a thick ring around her irises to the point where they were almost invisible.

"I didn't wanna do that, Pa, honest!" she cried.

"I know, but you could've. That's why you never let your temper get the better of you, and you never lie to me again, ya hear?"

She hung her head in shame. "Are ya gonna spank me?"

Joe considered the option thoroughly before shaking his head. "I think the punishment you got at school is enough, but ya still have to set things right."

Anne Marie gazed up at her father curiously. "How, Pa?"

"I'm gonna take ya over to the Coles' house and you're gonna apologize to Johnny."

Anne Marie could not believe her ears. Apologize to Johnny? How could her father possibly expect her to do that? That meant admitting she was wrong, and although she knew she hadn't necessarily made the wisest choice, she didn't consider her act of retaliation evil enough to warrant what she believed to be surrender. She would apologize to her father; she would apologize to Diana if she must; but she would _not _apologize to Johnny Cole.

"I can't, Pa," she said softly, unable to look him in the eye. She was fully aware of her defiance but completely unaware of the impending consequence she knew she would receive.

"What?" His voice was hard and his expression cross, but, though Anne Marie's body trembled, her own expression remained just as firm as his.

"I can't apologize to Johnny."

"You will."

She shook her head.

"You'll stay in your room until ya do. I'll drop ya off at school and pick you up like I used to, and you won't see anyone or go out to play. Ya won't have any books or your mother's guitar. You'll just sit there."

Anne Marie sat there for a moment, mulling over her options. Finally, she looked up at her father and said, "Fine."

She rose to her feet and turned dramatically on her heel, and marched up the stairs.

Little Joe turned to Ben helplessly, but the older man merely nodded with a confident smile.

"She made her choice," he said. "Now it's up to her." He settled back in his chair as Adam and Hoss walked through the door.

"How'd it go?" Adam asked, removing his hat and hanging it on the peg beside the door, Hoss following suit.

"She doesn't leave her room until she apologizes to Johnny," Joe said.

Adam lifted a questioning eyebrow, eyes roving back and forth from Joe to Ben.

"She won't apologize to 'im?" Hoss asked, coming to sit in the large chair across the table from Ben.

Joe shook his head.

Adam smirked and sat down beside Joe. "Well, she can't really help it. She got her temper from you; it's no surprise she also inherited your stubbornness."

Joe's nostrils flared, but Ben and Hoss chuckled and Adam smirked, proud of his quip, and he merely sighed in response, knowing good and well that truer words were never spoken.


	10. Making Good

So, I decided to simply update this chapter, not so much rewrite it as I did that last one. I wanted to change it so that Joe simply swats Anne Marie on the behind to spank her instead of using the belt. I completely agree that that was a little too much. I don't know why I even put it in there. I suppose I thought the hand wouldn't be "harsh enough," but I've changed my mind. Anyway, if you've already read the chapter you don't need to reread it, I just wanted to change it for any future readers. If you haven't read it, enjoy! Also, I just wanted to say I'm so glad I rewrote the last chapter, and I'm glad many of you enjoyed it much more than the first version. Thank you for all your comments and insight. The first version was way to stiff and idealistic to work in the very real world of the Cartwrights, and I think you'll find this follow-up chapter to Anne Marie's punishment quite in keeping with the last. Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Little Joe had never realized how quiet the house could be. Anne Marie was such a permanent part of the Ponderosa now that he could hardly remember what it had been like before her birth. The silence that fell upon the four Cartwright men every night was as heavy as a wet blanket and just as dampening to their spirits, and the conversation at the dinner table suddenly felt stinted and unnatural without Anne Marie's amusing two cents to coax an occasional chuckle from their lips. What seemed to shock Joe the most was how natural evenings like this had felt a decade ago, when neither Avonlea nor Anne Marie had been a thought in his mind. He had passed many pleasant evening with his father and brothers, discussing the ranch and the hands and Virginia City. Now this kind of talk bored him and he engaged in it only in matters of business. Around the supper table he would much rather be listening to Anne Marie yammer on about her day at school. She was never at a loss for words, and though he knew it was common for children to be seen and not heard, that was a standard to which he would never hold his daughter.

Hop Sing served Anne Marie her meals in her room. It was lonely, being cut off not only from her friends but her family as well. She hadn't dreamed her father wouldn't even allow her to eat supper with them. Her only company now was Dinah, as Little Joe insisted that the cat was still her responsibility. Occasionally Hop Sing would bring up a saucer of milk and a few scraps of fish for the tiny animal, but between these brief moments with the cook and her silent rides to school with her father in the mornings, Anne Marie saw no one. Joe removed any form of entertainment from her room precisely as he had promised – her dolls, her toys, her books, and her mother's guitar – but it wasn't until day three that he found her sewing basket stuffed beneath her bed.

With nothing to do but sit on her bed and pet Dinah, Anne Marie spent long hours staring out her window at the frost-covered land. By the time she arrived home in the evening, there was only about an hour of sunlight left, and she often found herself so bored that she blew out her lamp directly after dinner and simply went to sleep. Still, the first few days weren't so bad. However, the challenge increased when the weekend arrived.

Saturday was excruciatingly long. For the first several hours Anne Marie attempted to sleep as late as possible, but as the sun rose, scattering glittering rays of blinding light atop the brilliant sheet of snow on the ground, she found it impossible to keep her eyes shut. Throwing open the doors of her wardrobe, the girl was shocked to find such a dazzling array of dresses before her. She had never noticed just how many she had, and in so many colors, nor had they ever seemed so interesting. Through the rest of the morning and well past dinnertime she entertained herself in front of her large mirror, trying on each one and twirling this way and that before the glass. She inspected every detail of each garment, noting the minor flaws in each and every one. Then she sat herself at her vanity and dedicated the remaining time before supper to fashioning her hair into an acceptable bun like the one her mother was wearing in the daguerreotype on her nightstand. However, the task proved much more frustrating than she had imagined, and by the time Hop Sing brought her supper she was quite aggravated.

"Don't I get any dessert?" she asked, looking at the tray, which was absent of the apple pie she had smelt baking all afternoon.

"Mister Joe say no dessert for you anymore," Hop Sing said.

Anne Marie's jaw dropped. "But that's not fair!"

"That what Mister Joe say. Not until you apologize."

She crossed her arms over her chest, stifling her fury with one large gulp before she said (with a voice only slightly shaking), "Well, you can that right back because I won't eat one bite."

"Missy Anne Marie, you eat."

"No."

Her expression was so menacing that Hop Sing felt he had no option but to obey. As he passed through the dining room, the Cartwright clan considered the untouched tray, exchanging worried glances.

"Ain't she gonna eat, Hop Sing?" Hoss asked, stopping the Chinese man in the doorway to the kitchen.

"She say she not eat one bite."

The big man turned to his younger brother. "Ya sure ya shoulda taken away her dessert?"

"She's gotta know I'm serious, Hoss."

"But she ain't eatin' at all now, Joe."

"She'll eat when she gets good an' hungry," he said, not a bit shaken by his daughter's reaction. He was confident that an apology would soon follow.

But Hoss, concerned about his niece, waited until the rest of the house had gone to bed, then slipped downstairs and swiped a fresh pie of apple pie from the pantry. He scooped it out onto a small plate then, with spoon in hand, carried it up to Anne Marie's room.

She heard the knock on her door and leapt out of bed, disturbing Dinah who meowed in protest.

"Who is it?" she whispered, putting her ear up to the door to hear the soft reply.

"It's me, Annie."

Her face brightened instantly in response to the friendly voice, and she opened the door a crack to meet her large uncle's smiling face.

"How ya doin'?"

She shrugged. "I'm all right."

"I saw ya didn't eat supper, so I brought ya a piece a pie to tide ya over 'til breakfast."

"Hoss!"

The plate shattered against the hard wood floor and both the man and his niece looked up, wide-eyed, to see Little Joe standing in the hallway, lamp in hand. The light from its flame illuminated the dark corridor, casting great shadows on the broken plate and its contents now oozing along the floor and creating a slimy, sticky mess that would soon congeal and prove to be quite a pain to remove.

Anne Marie immediately ducked back into the sanctuary of her room, slamming the door quickly behind her and leaving her uncle to fend for himself. She stood with her back pressed up against the other side of the door, eager to hear the ensuing conversation.

"What are you doing?" Joe demanded, his free hand balled up in a fist that rested on his hip.

"Sh-she didn't eat supper, Joe," Hoss said in his defense.

"She's not starving, believe me."

"Yeah, but Joe-"

"She's not gonna learn anything if ya don't let me teach her."

"She ain't budged yet."

"She will, eventually."

Behind her door, Anne Marie grit her teeth. If her father really thought she was that weak, she would prove him wrong.

* * *

On Sunday afternoon, Little Joe rode for the Cunningham house. Over the course of the past few days, he had come to realize that he owed Diana just as much of an apology as Anne Marie owed Johnny. His behavior upon their last encounter had been rude and inconsiderate when the only thing the woman had been attempting to do was offer some friendly advice from one parent to another. But, much like his daughter, it had taken him several days to concede to the tug on his conscience. The Cartwrights were a proud family, and it took a great amount of prodding for any of them to admit to any shortcomings on their part. But the more time passed, the more annoyed Joe became when he recalled their conversation. However, before he could reach her house, he noticed Diana's buggy parked in front of the schoolhouse. He dismounted and tied his horse outside then walked up the two short steps and into the small building.

Diana stood at the blackboard, scribbling the next day's lesson with a piece of chalk. Upon the sound of Joe's boot on the floorboards, she jumped, turning around only to find the handsome cowboy making his way up the aisle of benches.

"Oh, Little Joe, you startled me."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry. What are ya doin' here on a Sunday?"

"Just preparing for tomorrow's lesson."

He crinkled his nose in mock disgust. "Ya couldn't get me to spend one more minute in here than I had to."

"That's why you're not a teacher, Joe," she said with a laugh.

He smirked.

"I didn't see you at church this morning," she said.

"Well, Anne Marie's bein' punished, so we all stayed home."

Diana raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh?"

"That's why I came. I'm sorry 'bout the other day."

"I'm sure it came as quite a shock to you to hear about Anne Marie's behavior."

"I just wanted ya to know it's being taken care of."

She nodded. "Thank you, Joe. There's only so much I can do."

"She really looks up to you, ya know."

Diana blushed slightly and turned away, embarrassed. "Little Joe, you flatter me."

"I mean every word," he replied. "You're teachin' her to be a lady, and she respects you." He took her right hand in his then and touched his lips to it, looking up into her deeply flushed face with sincere gratitude.

"Thank you," he said, and once again the overwhelmed schoolmarm was forced to look away, lest her face grow another shade redder.

* * *

"Mister Joe, Mister Joe!" Hop Sing raced down the stairs in a panic, careful not to spill his tray of food as he went.

"What's wrong, Hop Sing?" The table of men looked up from their meal as the cook came to a stop beside the youngest Cartwright.

"Missy Anne Marie not in room."

"She what?" Joe sprung to his feet as Hop Sing took several steps back.

"She not in room," he repeated.

Joe's eyes flashed with anger at his daughter's disobedience. She had remained in her room for a solid week and a half now, and throughout that entire time she hadn't made a single attempt to escape. He couldn't understand why she had waited so long to defy him if she had planned to do so all along. He hurried out of the house and into the barn only to find her pony missing, as he had already suspected. Shaking his head, he ran back across the yard to find the remainder of his family just inside the door, eagerly awaiting his report.

"Polly's gone," he said with a sigh, reaching for his hat and jacket. "I'm gonna tan her hide when I find her."

"Where d'ya think she went?" Hoss asked as he and Adam and Ben prepared to join Joe on his hunt.

"I don't even know how she got out. I've been sittin' on the couch all mornin'."

"Well, let's check some of her favorite spots," Ben suggested. "Adam, you ride down to Lake Tahoe. Hoss, you take the high country. Joe, you take the road into Virginia City. I'll-"

But before he could finish barking orders, the patriarch was interrupted by the reverberation of horses' hooves beating against the frozen ground, and the image of Anne Marie atop her dapple-gray mare appeared, swerving around the barn and into the yard. An impish grin inhabited every muscle in her face, and she quickly dismounted and swaggered up to her father with such an air of cockiness that the entire family appeared at a loss for words for a good thirty seconds.

"Hello, Pa," she said, removing her riding hat and shaking the stubborn wisps of hair she had been unable to manipulate into her pretty braids out of her face. As she did so the braids twitched back and forth over her shoulders.

Little Joe was fuming. "What are you doing out a your room?"

She smirked. "Apologizing to Johnny," she replied.

"What?"

"I decided to apologize to Johnny," she repeated.

"Are you lying to me, Anne Marie?"

The girl's confidence began to shrink in the face of her father's appalling accusation. Contrary to her previous assumption, her stunt hadn't been amusing in the slightest, and it hurt her to think her father didn't trust her. It didn't occur to her that the combination of her refusal to tell him about her argument at school and her actions that morning had merely solidified Joe's inability to take her at her word.

"You can ask Mrs. Cole," she said.

"I will," he replied, "but right now I want ya go stand by the couch and bend over."

Anne Marie's eyes widened to the size of silver dollars. She was utterly horrified.

"But, Pa-"

"I don't wanna do this, Anne Marie, but ya left me no choice."

"Please, Pa-"

"Go stand over by the couch, Anne Marie."

Trembling, the little girl walked over to the edge of the couch and grabbed ahold of its arm. The echo of her father's footsteps growing nearer and nearer ricocheted off the walls of her mind, rattling about so noisily that her powers of concentration were utterly overshadowed by their loud hum. Little Joe only administered three hard swats upon her backside, careful not to hit bare skin, but the tears that streamed down Anne Marie's face as she scrambled up to her room were more than enough assurance that the lesson had sunken in. As he turned to face his father and brothers still standing in the open doorway, Ben noted the exhaustion on his son's face, and his heart twisted empathetically. It was astounding to him how the very emotions he had felt every time he had whipped Little Joe were now being reincarnated within the young man. He knew it hurt Joe more than Anne Marie would ever know to punish her in that way, but he couldn't be prouder of his son than in that moment.

"I'll be back," Joe said with yet another exasperated sigh, making his way toward the door.

"I think she's tellin' the truth, Joe," Adam said.

Hoss nodded. "Yeah, she wouldn't lie to ya."

He lifted an incredulous eyebrow.

Ben chuckled and slapped him on the back then and said, "Anne Marie's a good girl, Joe, and she loves you very much. You don't need to verify her story."

Joe finally smirked then and offered a weak chortle in return. "Guess you're right, Pa," he said, and with that he proceeded to take off his hat and jacket.

Anne Marie didn't stir from her room (the space she had considered a prison not twenty-four hours ago) for the rest of the day. Whenever they passed by her door the Cartwrights could hear her soft whimper muffled against her pillow, but finally her cries ceased and, when Little Joe came to look in on her, he found her sprawled on the bed, fast asleep.

She awoke some hours later to a rapping on her door.

"Wh-who is it?" she called, the timbre of her voice quivering.

"It's me, flower," Joe replied.

"C-come in." She climbed under the covers and pulled them tight up to her chin as her father walked through the door, a slice of pie in one hand and her mother's guitar in the other.

"You slept through supper," he said, leaning her guitar against the wall next to her vanity and coming to sit beside her on the bed. "I thought ya might want dessert though."

She took the plate in her hands cautiously, unable to resist its appetizing aroma. It was the perfect mixture of sugar and spice with that fruity apple smell that fused with the crisp warmth of the crust, and she lingered only a moment longer before grabbing the spoon and scooping up a big bite.

"I'm sorry I had to spank ya, flower."

She swallowed and said, "I didn't lie to you, Pa."

"I know, and I didn't spank ya for lyin' to me. I spanked ya for disobeyin' me."

She nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, Pa." She set the half-eaten piece of pie on her nightstand, then wrapped her arms about her father's neck as he pulled her little form tight into his chest.

"It's all right, flower," he said, kissing her hair.

She lifted her face then and planted her own upon his cheek, whispering, "I love you, Pa," in his ear.


	11. The Porch Swing

Well, here comes the next chapter. Sorry the last two were so rough with my writing and then rewriting them, but hopefully now we're back on track. I hope you'll enjoy this next one. We're going to get back to Adam and his feelings for Diana. Let me know what you think! Note.

Guest: I'm sorry if I didn't make it clearer in the last chapter that Anne Marie needed to notify Little Joe before apologizing to Johnny. The understanding was that he would accompany her to witness the apology, not because he didn't trust her but simply because her disappearing from the house does look like disobedience, and Anne Marie knew that. She intentionally sneaked out to pull a stunt, if you will, even though she did do what her father asked her to do. Her attitude, striding up to Little Joe and acting as if she'd done nothing wrong, needed to be taken down a peg too. Basically, she did ultimately do what he asked her to do, but not the way she should have, and she knew that, and Joe knew it too. That's why he spanked her. I suppose I thought it was clearer in the chapter, but I'm sorry if it wasn't. I hope you're still enjoying the story, and thanks for the review.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

"Well, good morning, Rachel. Don't you look pretty today." Adam tipped his hat to the girl as he entered the mercantile.

The fair-skinned, dark-haired child looked up upon hearing her name and a soft smile graced her lips at the sight of him. She stood in the window studying a selection of sheet music with the fresh June sunlight streaming in upon her and casting shadows on her dress and across her face in accordance with the letters painted on the glass. She was wearing the dress the Cartwrights had given her for Christmas – a bright red calico sprayed with a meadow of forget-me-nots. Though he had never told her so, Adam had picked it out himself, selecting the pattern precisely for the blue flowers that matched her eyes and made them appear somehow bluer. Rachel's eyes weren't as deep as her mother's; in fact, they seemed rather shallow. It wasn't as though the child herself was shallow, but her eyes reflected a diffidence and a gentleness that Adam believed to be not only rare but invaluable. She reminded him of Leah, the sister with weak eyes whom Jacob had been tricked into marrying. She wasn't at all like the Rachel in the Bible; in fact, if you stood them side by side, Adam was sure that any man would choose strong-willed Anne Marie over soft-spoken Rachel. Still, he had always felt a fondness for Leah, and though no girl would ever have the power to replace his niece, he found his love for Rachel increasing exponentially as his heart continued to swell with adoration for Diana.

"Good morning, Mr. Cartwright," Rachel said with a respectful nod.

He chuckled. "Rachel, how long have we known each other?"

She considered the question. "Almost three years."

He nodded then squatted down to her level. "Now don't you think it's about time you started callin' me Adam?"

A tender pink hue dusted her cheeks as she giggled and turned away bashfully.

Adam smiled. "Where's your mother?"

"At home cooking supper. She sent me to get more flour."

"It looks like you had your eye on somethin' else." He eyed the sheet music in the window as Rachel's face only grew pinker.

"I don't have the money yet," she said.

"I didn't know you played the piano."

The girl's features changed in the blink of an eye. Excitement coursed through her veins and her eyes lit up, erasing any timidity that had once been there.

"Ma started teaching me last year. I love it."

"It's a beautiful instrument," Adam agreed. "Takes a lot a skill to play it."

"I know a lot a hymns. I can play almost every one in Ma's old hymnal."

"Well, then it's time you had some new music." Adam dug into his vest pocket and fished out a silver dollar, placing it delicately in Rachel's left hand.

Her eyes widened and she looked from the silver coin to the generous cowboy in bewilderment. "I, I can't-"

He chuckled again, rising to his feet as he said, "You buy as much music as that dollar'll get you."

She clutched the currency tight in her fist and held it to her chest as if it were a precious family heirloom.

"Thank you, Mr.-"

Adam lifted an eyebrow in warning.

She giggled. "Adam."

His expression softened then and he smiled contentedly. "After I settle up with Bert I'll drive ya home, what d'ya say?"

Rachel nodded. "You should stay for supper too. I know Ma will be glad to see you."

"I don't think I could ever turn down such an invitation." And with that Adam sauntered up to the counter, paid his tab, and went to wait for Rachel in the buggy. A minute later she emerged with several pages of sheet music rolled up as a scroll and tied with a navy-colored ribbon. Adam leaned over and offered her his hand to help her into the rig, and then they were off.

Diana's house stood at the edge of town, very near the church. It had previously belonged to the former schoolteacher, Abigail Jones, who had moved away from the territory after marrying Hank Myers who had previously worked for Ben as a hand on the Ponderosa. As much as she had enjoyed teaching, no one would have ever been able to talk Hank out of his dream of homesteading. He was too much of a frontiersman to be cooped up in any town. The house had always been reserved for the resident educator, conveniently located just inside the city limits but within reasonable distance from the schoolhouse. It had been repainted a pale buttermilk yellow just before Diana moved in, and the new crown molding traced about the door and windows fairly glowed in the moonlight when the town finally went to sleep. A cozy porch swing hung beneath the balcony, and Adam longed to replace his humiliating memories with Abigail upon that very swing with pleasant evenings spent by Diana's side.

"Well, Rachel, I see you've brought a friend home," Diana said with a chuckle, looking up from the table where she had just finished setting a plate of bread. "Did you get the flour?"

The girl's eyes widened. "I, I forgot, Ma."

"Well, what _did_ you bring home?" She eyed the paper in her daughter's hand with a stern expression.

"I think I distracted her," Adam said in her defense. "We got to talkin' about music and all thoughts of must have flour drifted clear out of her head, isn't that right, Rachel?" He looked down at her and winked.

She nodded.

"I know you didn't spend my money on sheet music," Diana said.

"No, Ma!" the child cried.

"I gave her the money, Diana," Adam said, intervening once again. "It was a gift."

Diana turned a critical eye toward the handsome man in the doorway, observing him for a moment before nodding in reluctant approval. "You made sure to thank Adam, didn't you, Rachel?"

"Yes, Ma."

"Good. I suppose I'll go to the store tomorrow." She looked up at Adam. "Thank you for driving her home, Adam. You'll stay to supper, won't you?"

"I'd be honored," he said, taking off his hat and sitting down at the table.

The three had a fine time together. The light from the lamps shining in from the parlor and standing on top of the stove sparkled merrily, casting a radiant glow upon Diana's cheeks and Rachel's hair. Their smiles were warm and their company soothing, like a cool balm upon a burning wound. Adam reflected later that he had felt completely content at that table, the way he did at his own after a hard day's work. His father's prideful grin, his brothers' teasing smirks, his niece's mischievous smile – they were home to him, and he had never felt at home in any other house as long as he'd lived, until tonight. He felt the presence of a peacefulness quite foreign to him settle deep within him, imbedding itself deeper and deeper into his soul as the meal wore on, and a haze of serenity engulfed him.

After supper Rachel delighted her audience with several pieces on the piano. During the first few songs they remained silent, but soon Adam and Diana were singing along with the familiar hymns, seated side by side on her settee. When Diana finally glanced at the clock, she hurried Rachel off to bed, realizing that it was well past the girl's bedtime. Before she climbed the stairs, Adam promised to return with his guitar some evening to play along with her. Rachel smiled and suddenly bestowed him a kiss, then scurried with rose-colored cheeks up to her room. In that moment Adam felt utterly satisfied. The girl's gentle expression had matched her mother's almost exactly, and it filled him with such pleasure that he was prepared to drive the rig back to the Ponderosa in a state of muted euphoria until Diana offered him a cup of coffee for the journey home then showed him out onto the porch.

She sat down on the swing and he followed suit.

"It's a lovely evening," she said with a contented sigh, bringing her cup of coffee to her lips.

"Nights like these always seem to remind me why I didn't stay back east."

"You liked it there?"

"I suppose my mother's northern blood almost insures my fondness for it."

"Why didn't you stay?"

"Because my family's here," he said simply. "I wanted to help my father build the Ponderosa. Besides, if I hadn't come back I'd hardly know Joe at all. He was just a kid when I left." He smirked. "In many ways he's still a kid."

"I'm sure he always will be to you," Diana said.

Adam nodded.

A tender silence swept down upon them like a refreshing summer shower. Adam sipped at his coffee then said, "Rachel has a great gift, Diana. I didn't know you played the piano."

"Gilbert taught me. It's how we met actually."

Adam turned to her, intrigued. She rarely mentioned her late husband.

"My father decided to move west when I was young, just like yours; he just never made it all the way. I met Gilbert in Kansas City. He played in the dining hall of our hotel when he wasn't working in his father's store. It was just a hobby, he said, but I knew it was his passion. I was amazed at how it came so easily to him. It was much harder for me, but he was so patient."

"I'm sure he was a great man."

She nodded. "He was."

"What was he like?"

"Like you, Adam," she said, her cheeks coloring slightly as she peered deep into his eyes. "He was very much like you. He was quiet but confident, and he had a good heart. And he was so smart. He knew me better than anyone else."

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," Adam said, noting that her eyes were brimming with tears.

She shook her head and brushed them away quickly. "Oh no, Adam, you didn't; I just don't talk about Gilbert much."

He rose then and helped her to her feet. "I'd better be gettin' back to the Ponderosa. Thank you for the wonderful evening, and the coffee."

She chuckled. "You're quite welcome, Adam. Rachel and I were glad to have the company."

"So was I," he said, placing his hat on his head and hurrying down the steps.

Out in the yard, Adam offered Diana one last wave as he looked back, then he hitched his horses up to the buggy and drove off into the dark, enchanting night. As she watched the encroaching darkness swallow the man and the buggy up within it, Diana felt her heart convulse just as it had on Christmas night, and as she turned and retreated back into the quiet house, she surveyed the empty kitchen and the vacant parlor, then leaned back against the doorframe and wept.


	12. Mae

I'm so glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter. It was a lot of fun to write. Here comes the next one. We're going to get a little more of a peek in Matthew's life and his relationship with Anne Marie (as well as bring Hoss back into the story since I feel as if he's been a little neglected lately) before I proceed with Adam and Diana, but don't worry, there will be more to come with them too. There are so many different facets to this story it's hard to address every one of them in each chapter. Besides, you know how much more slowly Adam proceeds through his romances than Joe and Hoss do. :) Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Matthew Finney lived in a tiny shack on the edge of the old mining camp in Washoe. Unfortunately, most of the land had been picked dry of valuable ore and minerals by the first miners to arrive in the territory, but Mr. Finney was convinced that a large deposit of silver still remained to be discovered. Instead of working for one of the local mines, however, he had claimed a piece of land for himself and was determined to "strike it rich" on his own. The mines guaranteed a salary, but any silver that was found within them went to the company. Salaries gradually increased as the mines themselves grew wealthier, but the silver never belonged to the miners themselves. Matthew believed in his father with relentless enthusiasm, even in the face of poverty, but with his mother expecting and barely enough money to feed their little family of three (let alone another child), he was worried. He knew the children at school looked down on him for not having enough money, but he didn't understand how they could do the same to Anne Marie for having too much. His father would give anything to live the way the Cartwrights did, and so Matthew Finney had more right to be jealous of Anne Marie than any other student in Diana Cunningham's schoolhouse.

But, interestingly enough, Matthew counted himself one of the luckiest boys in the world. Anne Marie was the most fascinating person he'd ever known, and her friendship was precious to him. When school let out for the summer holidays, she would ride over to Washoe on her very own pony, then he'd mount up and they would ride back to the Ponderosa together. When the sun shone hot and bright they would ride down to that banks of Lake Tahoe and spend the afternoon splashing in the cool water. Anne Marie always hiked her skirts up about her waist, but somehow or other her clothes still ended up soaked clean through. She never seemed to mind though; she would simply urge Polly that much faster back to the house, allowing the blistering summer breeze to billow through her dress at it rippled by, drying her frocks more speedily than the sun itself ever could. Some days, when the world was just too beautiful and alive to abide any work, Hoss would shirk his chores and take them fishing. Anne Marie found she didn't have the patience to master the art, but Matthew was an expert fisherman, and she admired him for it. On those days she would bring along her sewing basket and, once she had thrown in the towel and seceded to the fact that she would be coming home empty-handed yet again, she would sit under the shade of her wide-brimmed sunhat and sew.

It was mystifying to Matthew how she could be so wild and yet so domestic. She looked just as contented when she was sewing as she did mounting Polly and racing across the Ponderosa. It was as though she needed both to be complete. She wanted to be beautiful and pristine and elegant, with ribbons woven through her tresses and large, colorful hats resting atop her head. She wanted to be delicate and sweet and irresistible with a subdued air of refinement sprinkled atop every mannerism. But she couldn't shake the desire she sometimes had to let her hair ravel in the wind, subject to its gusty gales, or tear blindly over the thousands of acres of the Ponderosa, caring not where her ambling path took her. Contrary to normal human behavior, she took comfort in the country's untamable wilderness and security in the risk it promised. It was her home, and nothing could ever frighten her about her home. Instead, she found that it entertained her with countless marvels and excited her in a way nothing else ever had.

Matthew didn't share this wild spirit of Anne Marie's. In fact, he was much more like Rachel – docile and quiet and responsible – but he wished he could be more like her. She thrilled him and helped him forget his families' troubles, if only for an afternoon, and he felt as if she genuinely cared for his wellbeing. Her heart was pure, even if her temper was strong, and ever since his first day of school Matthew had been enraptured with Anne Marie Cartwright. In the same way, Anne Marie found herself extremely intrigued with Matthew. He wasn't a thing like her father, yet he reminded her of Little Joe somehow, and her heart went out to him in his economic situation. A great amount of sympathy stirred within her every time she rode to Washoe to whisk him away to the Ponderosa, and she wished there was something she could do for him. Little did she know that the opportunity would present itself much sooner than she imagined.

On a peaceful night in late July, the sudden din of rapid hooves pounding against the ground woke Anne Marie from her slumber with a start. She rushed to her window, pulling back the frilly pink curtains to see Matthew hurriedly dismounting the one mare the family owned and running toward the front door. She dashed out of her room, slipping her robe over her shoulders and attempting to tie it before she reached the door. Dinah was at her heels and she fairly tripped down the stairs in her haste. She heard the thump of her uncle's big feet on the floor and knew he would be close behind.

"Anne Marie!" Hoss called from the top of the stairs, scooping Dinah up in his arms so the cat wouldn't scurry out the door when she flung it open.

Matthew stood on the other side, his chest heaving. His face looked like it had been drained of any emotion other than fear, and the freckles that usually dotted his cheeks had all but disappeared, erased by white fright. His whole body shook in panic, but he didn't have time for consolation.

"M-Ma," he gasped, hardly able to speak between furious gulps of air.

"What's wrong with your ma?" Anne Marie was horrified. Something must be desperately wrong; he wouldn't have ridden out to the Ponderosa in the middle of the night if it wasn't.

"She's havin' her baby," he said, "but the doctor's in Carson City and there's no one to come!"

Anne Marie looked up at her uncle looming above her, helpless.

Tears streamed down Matthew's face as the thought of losing both his mother and her unborn child grew nearer and nearer with each passing moment.

"Pa didn't know who to call," he said finally.

"Run upstairs and get dressed, Anne Marie," Hoss said. He placed Dinah in her arms then grabbed his hat off the peg in the wall. "I want ya to wake up Hop Sing and help 'im load the buggy. He'll know what to do. I'm gonna get dressed myself then hitch up the horses. Matt, you go on home and tell your pa we'll be there soon."

In an instant the boy was gone and Anne Marie was tearing up the stairs, rushing into her room, and throwing a dress over her head after depositing Dinah back on the bed. She didn't worry with her hair, merely combed it back and tied it with the first ribbon she could find, which she would have acknowledged as utterly mismatched if she had been paying attention, but she was in too much of a tizzy to notice or even care if she had. She grabbed her thin riding jacket and raced back down the stairs and into Hop Sing's quarters, waking him in the most respectful manner possible under the circumstances. The disgruntled cook appeared irritable at first but instantly made himself useful, gathering the essential supplies and loading the wagon just in time for Hoss to come thundering out of the house, fully clothed and ready to go.

They made it to the Finneys' shanty mere minutes behind Matthew. Every bump in the road was magnified at their present speed, and Anne Marie clung to the seat beneath her so tight her arms ached when they finally pulled up in front of the house. Every so often she would look up at her uncle, his features set with determination but his eyes filled with disquiet. She had never known her uncle to be afraid of anything, especially since he was so big. She herself was scared but excited as well. The remainder of Cartwright clan was out of town on a cattle drive, and if it hadn't been for the emptiness in the house she knew she would have been left behind. As it was, Hoss had no option but to take her with him, and that meant that she would get to help. It made her feel grown up, sitting in sober silence next to her uncle, on her way to serve someone in need. She knew it was something her mother would have done if she were still alive, and it thrilled her to feel like her mother. Still, she did wonder what Hoss would be able to do. He wasn't a doctor, but she knew he had assisted in the births of many horses that now galloped about the Ponderosa. Perhaps that would be enough.

Mrs. Finney's cries pierced the precious quiet of the night as they entered the tiny cabin. Anne Marie herself had never been inside Matthew's home, and she was shocked at what she found there. She knew many of her classmates lived in one-room structures, but this was the smallest space she had ever seen. A miniscule bed, barely big enough for one, stood against the back wall not six feet from the door. There was no stove, only a tiny fireplace with a cauldron resting above the fire within. The hut had no floor, and the ground below looked as if it hadn't been swept in weeks. Small weeds were beginning to sprout here and there, splotching the brown dust with bursts of green that would soon take root if they weren't picked. A table that only seated two rested on the other side of the room, adjacent to the fireplace, and in the far left corner a meager assortment of food was piled in a great lump. The only thing the family appeared to own that wasn't essential to their survival was a large Bible sitting on the table.

Matthew's father sat on the edge of the bed, his wife's hand within his.

Anne Marie hung back at the door, stricken with fear. The agony etched into every crevice of the woman's face was frightening, but she didn't have time to be afraid.

Hoss's commands rang out among Mrs. Finney's moans. "Anne Marie, you an' Matt unload the buggy outside an' bring in all the towels you can carry," he said as he approached the bed.

The children ran out the door instantly.

"Mr. Finney, I'm Hoss Cartwright. You're wife's gonna be all right, I promise."

The auburn-haired man nodded meekly and shook his hand. "We're sorry to trouble you this time a night."

"That's jus' plain foolishness. Now I'm no doctor but I reckon I know more than most folks 'round here."

"We're just glad you're here." Mr. Finney said.

At that moment Anne Marie and Matthew returned, their arms heaped with fresh, clean towels. In a matter of hours most of them were soaked with blood, but Mrs. Finney lay in bed with a tiny pink infant in her arms. She looked more unkempt than Anne Marie's first ragdoll and the hair about her face and neck was wet and sticky with sweat, but a fragile smile slept contentedly upon mouth

"Come see your baby sister, Matthew," she said to her son, her hoarse voice barely above a whisper.

Matthew approached the bed and peered down into the blankets. The squirming child within looked odd to him, but when she reached up and touched his nose with her stubby little fingers, his lips curved upwards and his eyes began to gleam.

"What are ya gonna call her, Ma?" he asked, looking back up at his mother.

She and her husband exchanged tender smiles. "Her name is Mae," she said.

He nodded. "That's a good name."

She chuckled then turned to Hoss who was seated at the kitchen table, wiping his own sweaty face with the last clean towel. "Thank you, Hoss," she said. "If it wasn't for you and Anne Marie, Mae and I might not be here."

"That's what neighbors do, Ma'am. They help each other," he replied.

"I only wish we could repay ya," Mr. Finney said.

"Nothin' to repay," Hoss said with a flippant wave of his hand. "Fact, it looks like you folks are the one's hurtin'." He surveyed the room disapprovingly.

"We'll make out."

Hoss shook his head. "Not if ya keep on like this. Now, how would ya like to come work for us on the Ponderosa? My pa'd pay ya an honest day's wages."

Mr. Finney sighed and shook his own head. He observed the cramped shanty with barely enough food to live on then looked back up at Hoss. "I've been a rancher all my life, but the stories a the bonanza up here must a turned my head. Now look at us."

"You don't have to worry 'bout that anymore, Frank," Hoss said. "You're comin' to work for us and I ain't takin' no for an answer."

"You drive a hard bargain, Hoss," Frank said with a laugh, "I don't see's I can refuse." The men shook hands, then he turned to his wife.

"Everything's gonna be all right now, Betty." He petted her head softly and she lifted her free hand to touch his as her lids fell over her tired eyes.

Frank took little Mae from her limp arms, then held her out toward Anne Marie. "Would ya like to hold her, Anne Marie?"

The little girl's eyes widened, taken aback by the man's generous offer. Ever since Mae had been placed in Mrs. Finney's arms she had desired to reach out and touch her. She hadn't even dreamed that she would be allowed to hold such a delicate creature. She eyed Hoss for approval, and her face fairly lit up when he nodded in response.

"Go on, Annie," he said, "jus' be mighty careful."

Frank gently laid the bundle of blankets between her arms, and she wrapped them about the slumbering infant deliberately so as not to wake her. All around her, the world seemed to be fading into a sheer veil as thin as mist. The only thing she could hear was the crackling of the logs in the fire, and the only thing she could see was the babe within her arms, and in that moment she felt more grown up than she ever had in the entirety of her young life.


	13. Growing Pains

I am so sorry it's taken me so much longer to update than I have previously! I've been incredibly busy and am still very busy, so the chapters probably won't come as fast as they have up until this point, but don't worry. I don't desert stories once I've posted them on fanfic, so you will certainly see this one updated, hopefully on a regular basis. It all depends on the amount of time I have to write, which is limited at the moment. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next installment and can hang tight until I get the next one up. :) Note!

MGM: I made sure to write Anne Marie's age into this chapter so no one loses track, since I am sure many others were wondering as well. She is nine, getting close to ten by the end of this chapter. Her birthday is in late March according to "Back on the Horse," the prequel.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Frank Finney was a natural born rancher; in fact, Hoss couldn't understand why he had given up his spread in Texas on nothing more than a whim and a prayer, but he supposed that the news of the bonanza out west had turned cooler heads than his. Still, the man seemed to thrive beneath the burning rays of the sun, which filled his face with a healthy glow, and by the time most men were ready to pack it in for the day, Frank was still hard at work. After several weeks, the sun had baked his skin into a deep bronze, and the dark circles that had once lined his eyes had utterly disappeared. At times Anne Marie would look at him and think his clothes had shrunken, but upon closer examination she realized that he had simply grown bigger and now filled his garments completely rather than merely allowing them to hang off his bones. Matthew's skin was darker too, and his cheeks shone with the robustness of summer. Little Mae was growing at an almost alarming rate; in fact, Anne Marie didn't know it was possible for a child to grow so fast. After all, the dresses she had worn last summer, though a few inches too short, still fit perfectly about her middle, even though her father assured her that they wouldn't last to see another summer.

The only member of the Finney family who didn't seem to be improving was Betty. Her face was still drawn and pale, and though Frank brought home more food than they had seen in months, it didn't appear to be strengthening her at all. Her difficult pregnancy had left her weak and somewhat sickly, and Matthew worried for his mother once again. It seemed to take all the energy she had to cook the family's meals and look after Mae. Matthew wished he could be of more help, but now that his father had gone to work for the Cartwrights, departing for the Ponderosa well before dawn and returning at dusk, all of the household chores had fallen to him. He had very little time to play now, but that didn't matter to Anne Marie. She was fascinated with Mae, and after telling Rachel the news of her birth, neither of the girls seemed to want to part from the creature. Likewise, Diana found it encouraging that the two young girls were taking an interest in motherhood and willingly escorted them to the little shack in her buggy directly after breakfast every morning. Upon viewing the house, she insisted on staying herself and assisting Betty, and the two soon became fast friends. Her company quickly lifted the frail woman's spirits, but though the rosy hue of happiness returned to her cheeks, the remainder of her skin still looked rather gray, and Diana feared for Betty's health.

The weather grew gradually cooler and the summer began to melt lazily into fall. To Anne Marie it seemed as if the world was on fire. Every color was enhanced – pulsating with vibrant fervor – and the air was sweet with the smell of sharp spices mixing with the ripening fruits and vegetables in every garden. Food always tasted better in the fall, but somehow the changing of the seasons didn't thrill her as it did in the spring, for she knew winter would come soon enough, and then the air would be clean but bitter and the world would seem drowsy and lonely. She hated to see the flowers withering in the fields and the dried leaves dropping from the trees, only to be crunched beneath a careless boot or a negligent wagon wheel. Besides, autumn always hailed school, and though she would have loved to drink up the last of those lingering golden days, she knew she would be relegated to the stuffy classroom with only several minutes of freedom in which to breathe the fresh air.

School began again in September, but Matthew wasn't there. He had to stay home to help his mother about the house. Betty wished he could go to school with the other children, but with his father absent during the day and Mae requiring her constant attention, it was simply an impossibility. Anne Marie missed him too. He was such a loyal companion, and his mild manner was soothing and provided balance to her own instability. He was very much like Rachel in that way, yet far more interesting. Men had always interested Anne Marie, and though she deeply desired to be a great lady, she sometimes wished for the unbridled liberty that the opposite sex seemed to possess. She would gladly have traded places with Matthew.

After school each day, Diana drove out to the Finneys' to visit with Betty, and Rachel and Anne Marie always insisted on tagging along to see Matthew and Mae. Anne Marie refused to give one more minute to her books than was required, so while she tended to the baby, Rachel would study with Matthew to insure he kept up with his schoolwork in preparation for his eventual return to school. Diana added her input while she sewed with Betty, eyeing her daughter proudly and secretly hoping that one day she would follow in her footsteps. Finally, when Frank walked through the door at the close of the day, immediately scooping Mae up in his great arms and then bending to kiss his wife, Diana would bid them goodnight and drive Anne Marie out the Ponderosa before heading home with Rachel in the soft purple twilight.

And so the days slowly slipped away, one very much like the next. Little by little, Anne Marie's world was expanding, and no one felt it more than her own family. She herself was oblivious to the ways in which she was slowly changing, but each of the Cartwright men felt the sharp sting of loss at the lack of her constant presence about the house. The majority of her time was now occupied at the Finneys' tiny shack in Washoe, and Matthew and Rachel had become her closest companions. Ben and Adam, older and more understanding, welcomed her independence, but Joe and Hoss found it difficult to watch her pulling away. Sometimes it seemed to Joe as if the Ponderosa itself cried out for its young ward, and in these moments he missed his daughter fiercely, and the long rides they used to take together on Saturday afternoons. Still, he recognized her desire to spread her wings as the same passion that burned within his own heart, and he could not withhold from her the opportunity to experience life for herself. As the youngest he had always felt undermined or overlooked, constantly required to succumb to the suggestions of his older and supposedly wiser brothers, and he simply would not allow Anne Marie to ever feel as if she had not been given the chance to make her own decisions.

* * *

"Pa! Pa!" Anne Marie threw Polly's reins over the hitching post in the front yard and rushed toward the house as Ben threw open the door in a panic.

"What is it, Anne Marie?"

"Wh-where's Mr. Finney?" she stammered as she bent over to catch her breath, arms wrapped about her middle.

"The south pasture." Ben indicated the general direction with a nod of his head.

Anne Marie returned his gesture with one of her own and then turned back to her horse. "Thanks."

"Wait just a minute, young lady." Ben reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, twirling her back around to face him. He grinned knowingly. "Tell me what's happened."

"I have to find him. Mrs. Finney's sick. Matthew went for the doctor."

Ben features darkened instantly and his pleasant expression contorted into a grimace. Without a word he whipped around, back into the house, and grabbed his hat and holster, adjusting them appropriately about his body as he crossed the yard and entered the barn.

"I'll get Frank; Anne Marie, you go back to the Finneys' and let 'em know we're on our way."

The girl was gone in a flash, racing back to the little cabin where Elizabeth Finney lay in bed, drenched in sweat. Her abdomen appeared slightly swollen and she shivered with cold though her body felt hot as an iron to the touch. Diana hovered above her, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead and tipping a glass of water between her dry, cracked lips, which were no longer a soft pink but a deathly bluish gray.

"Grandpa's gettin' Mr. Finney. They'll be here soon," she reported to the ashen-faced Diana who looked up from the bed frantically at the sound of horses' hooves outside the cabin.

Rachel sat in Betty's wooden chair by the fire with Mae sound asleep in her arms. The little table in the adjacent corner around which the remaining two chairs stood seemed somehow uninviting and even menacing, so Anne Marie sat down on the floor by Rachel's feet with a fatigued sigh. She glanced up into her friend's face. Worry was etched in every feature. She felt an alarming sense of déjà vu creeping over her, wondering and waiting here in this tiny shanty while Mrs. Finney writhed in pain on the bed. Her breathing came shallow and harsh and frenzied and made the girl of nine shudder from her position on the floor. She could not look at her. Anne Marie tucked her knees up under her chin, draped her skirt over her legs, and watched as the fire in the hearth projected the shadows of nearby objects onto it. Their movements became a dance, but this dance wasn't a soothing waltz or a delightful jig. It seemed to her like the dance the Indians performed about their great bonfires before going off to war, and the atmosphere that surrounded her felt heavy and toxic, as if it were choking her.

Soon Paul Martin was walking through the door, accompanied by Matthew, Frank, and Ben. Diana took Mae from Rachel's arms and shooed the children out the door to allow the doctor more space in the small room. However, the world outside appeared just as gloomy as the house inside. Anne Marie stood beside Polly, stroking her rough gray coat, while Matthew and Rachel sat together in the yard. He picked at the brittle brown patch of grass between his legs, looking for a strand long enough to stick in his mouth – a nervous habit of his father's that he had acquired over the years.

"Your ma's gonna be all right, Matthew," Rachel said after a moment, judging him uncertainly out of the corner of her eye.

Silence.

Anne Marie nodded. "Doctor Martin's the best doctor in the territory."

"She hasn't really been well since Mae was born," he mumbled, more to himself than to the present company.

Rachel looked up at Anne Marie, completely bewildered.

"She'll be all right." Anne Marie repeated Rachel's words with an air of impertinence. She refused to accept any other diagnosis, and she refused to allow Matthew to either.

Frank opened the door and the children started then looked up at him eagerly, Matthew and Rachel rising to their feet.

"Pa?" Matthew observed his father's face – lifeless and wan.

Frank placed his left hand on the boy's right shoulder and hung his head.

"How's Ma?"

"Doctor says she has the typhoid."

The boy's eyes widened, horrorstricken. "Wh-what's that, Pa?"

"She's real sick, Matthew."

"I-is she gonna die?"

Frank couldn't look his son in the eye. "I, I don't know, son. Doc says she's pretty bad off."

Matthew's previous attempts to stifle his tears in the presence of others failed him then, and his eyes overflowed with the salty liquid as it streamed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Pa," he wept. "I shoulda taken better care a her."

"This is not your fault, Matthew." Frank's eyes found Matthew's with renewed confidence. "It's my fault for movin' us out here in the first place. Your ma's always been weak. She shoulda told me your sister was on the way before we started out, but she didn't wanna hold me back."

The man was on the verge of tears himself; but as terrified as he was, Matthew knew he could not bear to see his father break.

"She's gonna be all right, Pa," he said, feeling as if the words were nothing short of trite. "She's gonna get better. She has to."

Frank studied the boy's expression, so brave in the face of such tragedy, and in that very moment he didn't feel as if he were looking at his son at all, but rather a grown man who had endured many hardships yet still found it within himself to offer a smile and tip his hat to his fellow man.

He straightened up and cleared his throat, batting back the moisture running along his lower lid. "Mrs. Cunningham is takin' your mother home with her to look after her 'til she gets better. Guess we'll have to fend for ourselves for a lil' while."

Matthew nodded.

"We'll help with Mae, Mr. Finney," Anne Marie said, indicating Rachel with her head.

Frank smiled upon her softly. "Thank you, Anne Marie."

Diana emerged from the house then, and Rachel hurried to her side.

"I'm taking Mrs. Finney home with me tonight, Rachel," she said. "Typhoid can be very contagious, so you're going to stay with the Cartwrights until she's well. I won't risk you coming down with it too."

"What about you, Ma?" Rachel asked.

"Don't worry about me," Diana said with a smile, touched by her daughter's concern. "I'll be just fine."

"Wh-what about school?"

"What about it?"

"You can't take care of Mrs. Finney and teach at the same time, can you?"

Diana's face cracked into a sly grin despite the grim situation as she replied, "You're right, I can't, but I know just the person for the job."


	14. Love's Philosophy

Sorry for the slow updates. My life is getting crazy and I'm having very little time to write these days in comparison to the amount of time I had for the first few chapters. Also, you know how you get on a roll with a new idea and then sometimes, about halfway through, your energy peters out. I still love my story and definitely intend on finishing it, but I don't want to update without giving my chapters the attention they deserve beforehand. Anyway, enjoy this next chapter! I think you'll enjoy the ending scene. Note!

MGM: I completely understand your point. It was weird for me to finagle the arrangements of getting Betty taken care of while at the same time attempting to not expose the children any further and also get Diana out of the classroom to move Adam in for a little span of time. Basically, I found it odd to move Betty in with Diana as well under the circumstances of the disease, but at the same time it was a tool I used for the sake of the story. I'm sorry if it's a bit off. I hope it isn't too contrived and that it won't take away from the greater story too much.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Anne Marie knew she should feel much more somber in the face of Mrs. Finney's illness, but she couldn't deny herself the grin that threatened to break into a full smile at any moment as she road alongside the Cunninghams' buggy back to the Ponderosa. The situation had turned out better than she could have ever hoped. Rachel was coming to live with her for the next few weeks, and Diana was about to ask her uncle to take over the school in her stead. Though the woman hadn't technically disclosed such information as of yet, Anne Marie knew there wasn't anyone in a hundred miles more qualified than Adam Cartwright. She also happened to know that he would accept the position, for Adam appeared to have only two true passion in life: knowledge and art, in all of its various forms. She was sure he would resist at first, but Diana had a way with him and would soon chip away his rough exterior.

The thought of Uncle Adam standing at the front of the room, rapping on the desk with Diana's ruler, caused Anne Marie to emit a small giggle, turning away from the schoolteacher as she did so for fear she might hear her. It was a funny picture, but also a pleasant one. It would be nice to see more of her family, for it suddenly dawned on her that she hadn't spent much time with them over the past few months, particularly since Mae's birth. She could hardly remember the last time she had read with her grandfather, or challenged Hoss to a game of checkers, or played the guitar with Adam before bed. And her father, when was the last time she had gone for a ride with him?

As luck would have it, Adam and Joe were just coming out of the barn as the three women trotted into the yard.

"Hey, how's Betty?" Joe asked, eyes roving from his daughter atop her pony to Diana seated in the buggy beside Rachel.

"Not well, I'm afraid," Diana replied soberly, bringing the rig to a halt. "She has typhoid. Doctor Martin thinks it's best that I look after her until she recovers since I've already been exposed, so she's coming to live with me so the disease doesn't spread any further. Your father graciously offered for Rachel to stay here for the time being."

Adam smiled softly upon Rachel who climbed out of the buggy herself as he assisted her mother down. "We'll be glad to have her."

Joe nodded. "Anne Marie could use a friend around the place. Maybe it'll keep her home a little more. She's taken to wandering lately."

He turned around to wink at his daughter, who was leading Polly into the barn.

She smiled, her cheeks coloring, then disappeared behind the great door.

"I'm worried about you taking Betty in though," Adam said to Diana, his features grave.

"Oh, Adam." Diana chuckled and waved a flippant hand in his face. "If I were going to catch typhoid I think it would have affected me by now."

"I wouldn't take any chances, Diana."

"Someone has to nurse her and it might as well be me."

"What about the school?"

"Well, it seems I'm in need of a substitute, doesn't it?" She giggled despite herself, finding it difficult to look Adam straight in the eyes.

"I know you aren't suggesting that I take the position."

"I don't know who else I'd ask. You're the most qualified person from here to Carson City. You've had schooling back east, and you have a way with children; Anne Marie's proof of that. Why, even Rachel adores you."

Adam observed the girl by her mother's side with a skeptical eyebrow.

She blushed violently and buried her face in her left shoulder.

"I'm not prepared. I don't know where you are in the lessons." His eyes snapped back to Diana, refusing to fall sway to Rachel's shy smile, which tugged at his heartstrings.

"I'll go over them with you, Adam. I wasn't intending on simply throwing you to the dogs." A teasing grin spread across her lips that simultaneously transmitted itself to his own.

"It's a busy season for us, Diana. We just bought two hundred head a stock and a dozen horses, and they all have to be branded and broken."

"Yeah, but I think ya been workin' a little too hard, brother," Joe said, breaking into the conversation. He crossed his arms over his chest and assumed a nonchalant pose, allowing the entirety of his weight to rest on the heels of his feet. "I don't think Pa'd mind givin' you a vacation."

Adam sighed, annoyed by his brother's intrusion. "Thanks, Joe."

"Is Uncle Adam gonna take over the school?" Anne Marie hurried out of the barn to join the throng, her eyes flashing with expectancy.

"This seems to be a conspiracy," Adam said.

Rachel giggled as Anne Marie brushed past her father, coming to stand right in front of her uncle.

"I didn't say a word to her," Diana said.

"She didn't have to," Anne Marie said matter-of-factly with a nod. "Everyone knows you're the only person who _could_ do it, Uncle Adam."

"I hardly think that's true, Anne Marie, and you know I don't respond to flattery."

"It _is _true."

"I think they've gotcha beat, Adam," Joe said with a chuckle.

He sighed again, this time in reluctant consent, as he said, "Since no one else can be found on such short notice, I guess I have no choice."

"Thank you, Adam," Diana said. The teasing grin vanished, and in its stead a radiant smile engulfed her features, and the educated cowboy was taken aback by her sudden beauty. It was all he could do to keep himself from staring, and the moment he realized he was, he averted his eyes somewhat painfully.

"I'm going to take Rachel home and pack her things. We'll be over after supper, and then I'll show you where the children are in their studies."

Adam took her hand in his and helped her back up into the buggy.

"I'm sorry for the imposition."

"No imposition at all. Anne Marie will be glad to have the company, and, to tell you the truth, it'll be nice to get away from the ranch for a week or two."

"You seem to have had a change of heart all of a sudden," Diana said, the sly smirk returning.

"I knew you wanted to do it all along, Uncle Adam," Anne Marie said.

"It seems your poker face still needs a bit of work," Diana said.

Adam chuckled. "I guess it does at that."

She smiled then slapped the reins across the horse's back, jerking the rig into motion.

"Well, it looks like I'd better tell Hop Sing to get the spare room ready," Adam said, starting across the yard toward the house.

"Ya might wanna dust off a few a those books a yours too, Professor," Joe said, slapping his older brother on the shoulder good-naturedly.

Anne Marie giggled and squeezed between the two men, her little legs struggling to match her gate with the long strides of her father and uncle.

Adam rolled his eyes.

"I'm glad you'll be teaching my school, Uncle Adam," the girl said.

Despite himself, the man felt the corners of his lips ascending. "I am too, Annie. Now why don't you run along and help Hop Sing get Rachel's room ready before supper?"

She nodded and hurried on ahead of them into the house.

Promptly after supper, Diana arrived with a trunk of Rachel's belongings, consisting mainly of clothes, along with her sewing bag and her favorite doll. Anne Marie, excited beyond words at the prospect of having a fellow comrade in the house for an extended visit (even if she did see her nearly every day as it was), couldn't wait to show her into the guest room in which the massive bed had been dressed in fresh pink linens. Then they set to work unpacking dresses and hanging them in the wardrobe in the corner. Dinah, equally agitated by Anne Marie's enthusiasm, batted playfully at Rachel's skirts as they swished above her face. Amused, the girls began to dangle strands of lace and string from Rachel's sewing bag before the cat, leading her from one end of the room to the other in a merry chase in which her target always seemed to allude her, sometimes disappearing altogether.

Adam paused beside the room on his way out to the porch where Diana settled down to review her lessons with him. He listened to the squeals of laughter as they eked out from under the door and smiled contentedly.

"They're in there chasing the cat around with a ball of yarn," he said, stepping out into the night air and setting one of the two glasses of sherry in his hands on the table before her.

"It's been a long time since Rachel played with the cat," she said with a hearty laugh.

"It's been a while since Anne Marie has too. Having Rachel here will be good for her."

She nodded. "It'll be good for Rachel too. I hate to see her growing up without any sisters or brothers. I always wanted us to be family."

"You are a family, Diana," Adam said.

She shook her head. "You know what I mean, Adam. I wanted so much for her – so much that I can't give her on my own. Anne Marie's very fortunate to have you and your father and Hoss, as well as Little Joe. I've never been able to give Rachel that."

"Well, even with the four of us, Anne Marie's still at a disadvantage. There are things we haven't been able to teach her simply because of our own ignorance that are essential to her education as young lady. I think more than anything we're fortunate to have met you; in fact, I can't imagine where any of us would be right now without you. You've taken Anne Marie under your wing and been a prime example of what a woman really looks like and how she behaves."

"Oh, stop it, Adam," Diana said, afraid the increasing redness in her cheeks would cause her face to fairly glow under dim the lamplight. "You know very well there are plenty of women in town who would've been more than happy to teach her what she needed to know."

"But they didn't," he said. "You did."

She smiled wordlessly, uncertain how she should respond to such a statement, and as she turned her face away in embarrassment, Adam recognized Rachel's shy expression from earlier that same day reflected in her features. It was beautiful to him how alike they were, how transparent their similarities.

Finally she said, "Well, there are things you've taught Anne Marie that I've never been able to teach Rachel."

"Like what?"

"Well, like riding a horse for instance. I was never taught, so how could I possibly teach Rachel?"

"Would you like to learn?"

"Oh, heavens no. I'm just don't know if Rachel would have ever liked to learn. I know she envies Anne Marie's ability to go wherever she chooses from time to time."

"Well, we need to keep a tighter rein on her."

Diana smirked. "She has her father's spirit. I don't think you'll ever be able to tame her."

"We can try."

"I'm afraid it might prove to be a losing battle."

"You're probably right," he said.

They chuckled in unison for a moment, then Diana turned to the books she had lain out upon the table and began instructing Adam in the delicate art of teaching.

The brief lesson was over almost as soon as it had begun, as she knew it would be. After all, this was Adam's true calling. She could hear it in his voice as they discussed the classroom and the duties he would be required to perform day in and day out. The conversation was so pleasant and the air so mild – the perfect weather for early October – that neither of them wanted the evening to end. Once again they found themselves seated together among the whirring of the crickets and the occasional hoot of a waking owl, with the soft light from the lantern above casting a hazy blaze of warmth down upon them, so warm that even the cool breeze that rustled through the leaves couldn't bring a shiver to Diana's body. She felt so content, so comfortable, so satisfied there beside Adam.

Shutting her own books, she glanced at Adam's stack that had remained untouched. "Is this part of your collection?" she asked.

"A very small part of it," he said with a chortle.

"Oh, Adam!" She removed the first three books from the pile to uncover a small black volume with gold lettering. "Percy Shelley!"

He smiled. "You like Shelley?"

"Second only to Byron."

"Well, I'll read you a poem then. Which one would you like to hear?"

"Love's Philosophy."

"All right."

He didn't need to hunt for the correct page. The book opened instantly to the location he required, and Adam smirked as he looked upon the familiar print.

"The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix forever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single,

All things by a law divine

In one another's being mingle—

Why not I with thine?"

Diana closed her eyes as he read to her, drinking in the delicate words like nectar, but Adam (who had memorized the poem long ago) observed her over the horn of the hardback, careful to keep his speed steady and his tone unfaltering for fear her eyes would open and she would catch him staring at her so blatantly. This poem had always seemed to him like a beautiful daydream rather than a possible reality, something amorphous far away in the distant future that had never drawn close enough for him to perceive its concrete vision. The ardency the words portrayed had always induced a burning feeling within the pit of his stomach that had never had a picture with which to marry to it. It was a merely a mirage, or had been in the past. Now he could see the vision clear day, seated beside him, mouthing the very words he quoted. The movements of her lips matched his own with uncanny accuracy. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage as the passion within cried out for relief, but, as he had done so many times before, he stifled the urge within his chest once again, and read on.

"See the mountains kiss high heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdain'd its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea—

What are all these kissings worth,

If thou kiss not me?"


	15. The Turning of the Tide

First off, let me say I am SO sorry for not having updated for over a month! I promise I haven't forgotten about this story, I've just been incredibly busy. I recently received a promotion at work and am in training for it right now, so a lot of the free time I had at work (since I was previously a receptionist and had a lot of down time to write) is now non-existent, and I'm so tired and mentally exhausted in the evenings when I come home that the last thing I can think about doing is writing. Anyway, if these next few updates come a little slower, I apologize, but it's hard finding the time to write anymore. Still, I do plan on finishing and hope to update a little more regularly than I have this past time, but I know that I won't be able to update weekly anymore. Possibly bi-weekly. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter, which is meant to foreshadow the coming action more than supply much itself. Don't worry, I'll try to get the next one up soon so you can see where it's going. Note!

Anna: I seriously just stumbled on that Percy Shelley poem and loved it so much that I had to use it with Adam and Diana. I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Also, I do have a feeling you might have missed a chapter from when you were in Ireland. I'm pretty sure it's Chapter 12, so go back and read it to make sure you have before you read this one. That's the only chapter I don't have a review from you on, and I know you like to review every time, which I really appreciate, by the way. Also, just so you know, fall is my favorite season too. Maybe it has something to do with my birthday, I don't know. :)

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Anne Marie couldn't remember the last time driving to school had felt so exciting. It wasn't as though she truly dreaded it each morning, but the wild, roaming hills of the Ponderosa, with their crags and caves and crevices, enticed her far more than any building ever could. Overall she enjoyed learning, especially history, and she loved to read. There was adventure in books – adventure that took her fat out open the open sea or into the midst of great battles beside valiant warriors. Sometimes her grandfather teased her for not pursuing more literature that would be deemed appropriate for a young lady, but Anne Marie recognized the small smile upon his lips when he gently scolded her as a knowing one, for he could not dent the fact that his own collection was to blame. Today, however, Anne Marie needed no distractions to make it through the long, dull hours at school. She and Rachel chattered and giggled the entire way there, seated snuggly beside Adam as he grinned down upon them. Their mirth warmed his heart in a way he could not fully express; he could only smile when they smiled and chuckle when they laughed, sharing in this joy that was so infectious.

However, the moment they walked through the doors of the small, one room structure, Anne Marie noted the change in her uncle's demeanor as it evolved from pleasant indifference to professional solemnity. She had often seen this expression on his face, when he was engrossed in a novel or discussing some business with Ben, but it was rarely ever directed at her. This morning he stood at the front of the class, staring down at the students squirming upon the benches, not angrily but certainly sternly.

"I am Mr. Cartwright," he said after clearing his throat to gather the pupils' attention. Then he turned and scrawled his name with a stick of chalk upon the blackboard behind him. "I will be your substitute teacher until Mrs. Cunningham returns."

Benji Clarkson raised his hand.

Adam nodded, indicating his consent for the boy to speak.

"Where is she?"

"She's nursing Mrs. Finney back to health."

"How long's she gonna be gone?"

"Until Mrs. Finney gets well."

The room was silent. Everyone stared from Benji to Adam as the boy's shoulders slumped and he wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. There wasn't any point in questioning Adam further.

"Now, I'm sure we're all going to get along fine. Mrs. Cunningham told me where you all are in your subjects, so there shouldn't be any confusion."

This time Johnny's hand appeared, jutting up above the horizon of heads. "Aren't ya related to Anne Marie?"

Adam nodded reluctantly. "I'm her uncle."

Johnny tossed a spiteful smirk at Anne Marie who squinted back behind a hideous glare.

Adam noticed this exchange immediately and scowled down upon the two rivals with such vehemence that they both drew back fearfully.

"Mrs. Cunningham didn't tolerate any dissention in her classroom and neither will I. Anne Marie is no different than any other student and won't receive any special treatment just because she's my niece. I want to make that clear."

The girl's features drooped and her eyes fell to her hands in her lap as she twiddled her thumbs. She didn't enjoy being singled out in front of the entire class, especially as anything so vile as a teacher's pet. It should have been a comforting thought, then, that Adam didn't intend to treat her any differently than her peers, but somehow it wasn't. She felt insignificant and ordinary. She wanted to be something precious in his eyes, something special that tugged at his heartstrings and invoked a tenderness that was foreign to most. Previously she had been assured of his affection, but in this one moment he seemed to have erased all of her confidence in his love. Was she so easily cast aside?

The day progressed slowly, and by the time she and Rachel climbed into the Cartwrights' buggy that afternoon, Anne Marie had drawn the definitive conclusion that having her uncle for her teacher wasn't going to be nearly as amusing or exciting as she had first surmised. She had always seen Adam as a stoic individual, much more composed and certainly less juvenile than Hoss or even Little Joe. Even though he had grown by leaps and bounds in maturity since her birth, Joe was still very much a boy and always would be when compared to his older, educated brother. In fact, to Anne Marie he was the least approachable of the four men. She felt as if his expectations for her behavior were greater than the rest due to the extent of his education and his exposure to civilization back east. He knew how a lady carried herself, and what she said and what she wore, and the way she behaved in various social situations, and she knew his standards for her were much the same. Sometimes she even felt as if he were disgusted by her mischievous curiosity and playful sense of adventure. But every night, after he had drawn his guitar up to his chest and strummed the first chord, she would watch a soft expression of adoration grace his lips as she picked up her own instrument to join in his song, and she knew he loved her.

But in the classroom he had been stiff and hard, more intimidating than ever before. He had seemed like a stranger to the girl who had lived with him every day of her young life. He had taken turns walking the floors with her at night when she cried and tickled her stomach until she was breathless with laughter to keep her from frowning. And now she didn't know him.

Upon arriving home, Anne Marie hurried into the house only to throw her books rather clumsily on her bed and rush back out into the barn. Often times her uncles would still be out with the hands, Ben would be engaged in his bookkeeping, and Little Joe would have numerous other chores to complete before the day's end, so Anne Marie took the liberty of utilizing the few hours of daylight that remained between the close of school and the supper – a window of about three hours. This was plenty of time for her to get in a good ride, especially since she would soon have to surrender her rides and admit defeat in the face of such a powerful enemy as the bitter cold.

Entering the warm, sweet barn that smelt of fresh hay and rich leather, she immediately marched into Polly's stall and took her brush from the peg in the wall. It wasn't until the sound of feet shuffling along the hay reached her ears that she remembered Rachel, who had tiptoed up beside her.

"Polly's so beautiful, Anne Marie," the girl said, eyes sparkling with admiration.

"I know." She smiled upon the horse with pride, then turned to look at Rachel. "Ya wanna go for a ride?"

"But we have lessons to study."

"We can study after supper."

Rachel studied her skeptically, unconvinced.

"C'mon, she's been cooped up all day and her legs need the exercise. Besides, pretty soon it'll be too cold for me to take her out at all."

"I don't know, Anne Marie."

"It's all right, Rachel. I always go riding after school," she said, reaching for her saddle and nestling it firmly in the middle of Polly's back.

"Can't be go riding on Saturday instead?"

"We can go then too."

"Well, maybe I'll just go with you then."

Anne Marie shrugged. "All right."

She untied Polly's reins after securing the bit in her mouth and led her out into the yard, Rachel in tow, but, as she mounted up, the pretty, soft-spoken brunette continued on toward the house, her back finally disappearing behind the great door.

* * *

Adam sat at his father's desk with one of Diana's readers, going over the next day's lessons. When the door opened and Rachel walked in unaccompanied, he looked up, confused.

"Where's Anne Marie?" he asked, fully expecting to find the two girls joined at the hip for the entirety of her visit.

"She went for a ride."

"She didn't invite you?" Adam voice hardened and his brow furrowed.

Rachel shook her head vehemently. "Oh no, she did."

"You didn't wanna go?"

"No, I did, very much, but Ma always told me to study when I came home from school. I would always have time to play on Saturday."

Adam was speechless. She was such an obedient, sensible child, very much like himself, and his heart seemed magnetically drawn to the quiet, deferential being. Though he prided himself on knowing his niece like the back of his hand, he suddenly began to realize that her daily schedule was a matter he hardly took into consideration. Since he rarely saw her from the time she left for school in the morning 'til Hop Sing placed supper upon the table, he knew very little of her routine upon returning home in the afternoons. When did she study? Surely she must or they would have received a report from Diana, but he couldn't recall the last time he had seen her with a book in her hands other than one of Ben's manuscripts. And yet here was Rachel, exchanging a pleasurable ride with her dearest friend for an afternoon of study. He valued her initiative, and a soft smile graced the corners of his mouth as he watched her retreat into the guest room.

After several minutes he stood and followed her, lingering in the doorway to observe her delicate figure seated in the rocking chair in the corner, hunched over her reader. He cleared his throat and her head jerked upward, startled.

He smirked. "I was just going over tomorrow's lessons myself, but I think I'd rather study outside. What about you?

She smiled brightly. "Oh, yes."

"Good. I'll get Hop Sing to bring us some lemonade and we can enjoy the afternoon."

Rachel folded the book in her hands and carried it out onto the porch where Adam joined her in a matter of minutes with two glasses of tart, yellow liquid. She sipped it gladly, the cool, sweet goodness splashing down her throat and lighting up her face so it shone the same color as the lemons it mimicked.

Adam smiled. "Will it do?"

"It's delicious," she said.

"I'll give your compliments to Hop Sing," he said, settling into the chair opposite her. "So, what did you think of my teaching today?"

Rachel looked up from her book, taken aback by his desire to hear her opinion. What did it matter what she thought of the way he taught? He was the adult; she was the child.

"I know I'm not your mother," he continued, "but I hope I'll be an adequate substitute for you."

"I thought you were wonderful," Rachel said, shocked by her own forward response.

Adam grinned, amused by her wide eyes and quivering lips. He was obviously making her uncomfortable by attempting to engage her in conversation. It was apparent that she rarely spoke with any adult other than Diana, always mindful of the dogma that children should be seen and not heard. This was a concept Anne Marie hadn't fully grasped. She was respectful enough in public, and even about the house, but being raised and spoiled by four older men on a rowdy ranch where hands were always coming to and fro and doting upon her at they would their own daughters hadn't helped to enforce the importance of silence. She was always encouraged to speak as it amused them and comforted them and delighted them to please her.

"D-did you wanna be a teacher?" Rachel asked timidly, unsure of whether or not she was overstepping her bounds.

"I never really gave it much thought," Adam replied, gazing out into the yard thoughtfully. "I enjoy my life here on the Ponderosa, but every now and again I get restless for something new. I'm thankful to your mother for considering me as her replacement, but don't tell her that."

Rachel giggled as he tossed her a wink.

Silence fell upon them then as both teacher and pupil turned to the tomes in their laps, but when Anne Marie trotted into the yard an hour later the scene had changed, and she found her uncle, guitar in hand, regaling Rachel with "My Bonnie."

A pang of jealousy shot through her heart, and her features hardened as she tightened her hands about Polly's reins before dismounting and leading the pony into the barn. Adam had before never played "My Bonnie" without her; in fact, it was one of their favorites to play together. The rest of the family had heard it so many times she was afraid they had grown sick of it, but every time she asked him to play it with her, Adam would always smile and strum the first chord without protest. She didn't know why it bothered her so to find him laughing and singing with her best friend, but somehow his cold demeanor in the classroom had combined with his tenderness in this moment, directed at Rachel and not herself, to create a twinge of loss that penetrated her soul, and the only reaction she could find to soothe the pain was bitterness.


	16. A Talk With Pa

Thank you all for your patience as I search for time to write in my insanely busy schedule. I do update as soon as I possibly can, I promise. I'm not holding out you. LOL. Thank you for all of your compliments as well. I hope this next chapter will tide you over until I can write again. The tension between Anne Marie, Rachel, and Adam and is building to a climax very soon, but I don't want to rush anything so it won't feel unnatural, so I'm sorry if this chapter seems a bit slow. I also wanted to incorporate Joe back into the story, but don't worry, there's much more to come not only in the life of Anne Marie but Adam and Diana as well. :)

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Over the course of the next week, Adam observed his niece very carefully from a comfortable distance. Her routine lent little time to her schoolwork and her mind rarely seemed focused on her studies, and while even he was tempted to find her habits endearing as her uncle, he couldn't bring himself to condone them as her educator. He understood and even sympathized with her desire for adventure, recognizing that, just like her father, she needed more excitement in her day, but it was unhealthy for her discipline in the future to allow her to simply run amok. Now he knew the situation wasn't really as bad as all that, but Rachel's presence in the house highlighted Anne Marie's wild streaks so they stood out before him as vividly as writing on the wall. Walking the tightrope between teacher and relative was difficult. He couldn't reprimand her for her behavior outside the classroom when it didn't seem to be affecting her performance within. She did study a scant amount and it proved to be enough to get her through her lessons at school. She was a very bright girl, and that too seemed to have been passed down to her through the Cartwright gene pool. So, for the first time in his life, Adam found himself unsure of how to proceed.

Over the course of the next week, Anne Marie also observed her current situation very carefully. At first she had been thrilled to have Rachel stay at the Ponderosa with her, but as she nursed the green monster of jealousy within her, the creature had begun to grow astronomically. Adam spent more time with her friend than he did with her, studying with her every afternoon and singing her favorite songs every night before bed. He didn't even wait for her to finish her game of checkers with Hoss anymore, just started playing without any regard to his niece at all. In fact, the entire family seemed to be drawn to Rachel and her etiquette over the rambunctious Anne Marie. Ben spoke more with her than he did with his granddaughter about the supper table, and Hoss always asked Rachel to assist him in feeding and brushing down the horses – a task he had previously reserved for his niece. She even noticed Little Joe place an extra dollop of mashed potatoes on the girl's plate one evening. From the accumulation of all these signs, Anne Marie could only deduce one conclusion: the Cartwrights liked Rachel better than her, especially Uncle Adam.

On Saturday morning, when Anne Marie opened her eyes, her ears were met with the sound of gleeful giggling. She kicked off her covers, hitting Dinah in the process, who jumped into air then dashed under the bed in search of solitude. She hurried over to the window and threw up the sash, letting in a waft of crisp October air, sweet with the scent of fresh hay that Hoss and Joe had just moved into the barn. In the yard below, Adam had led Polly outside and was in the process of helping Rachel mount up.

Anne Marie's eyes flashed, panic-stricken, and she immediately reached for her riding boots resting at the foot of the bed. She shoved her feet into them then tore out of the room, down the stairs, and into the yard.

"Uncle Adam!"

The man looked up in surprise, eyes widening at the sight of his niece standing before him in the open air clad in nothing but her nightgown. Her own eyes were brimming with a confusion that incited something very close to fury, and try as he might he could not pinpoint the catalyst.

"Well, good morning, Anne Marie," he said with a welcoming smile, one she quickly disregarded as a mere necessity.

"What are you doing with Polly?" she asked.

"I thought I'd give Rachel a little riding lesson."

For the first time that morning, Anne Marie observed her friend. Rachel offered her the soft, pretty smile she always wore, but as Anne Marie watched it began to vanish, intimidated by her own coarse stare.

"But she's my horse, Uncle Adam," she said finally, turning her attention back to the culprit she deemed most guilty.

"I know, but I thought you might be kind enough to let your friend borrow her for an hour or two this morning."

She shook her head slowly. "Nobody rides Polly except me."

"But Anne Marie, you've let me ride Polly dozens of times," Rachel interjected, much to both Anne Marie and Adam's astonishment.

"Not without me," the girl insisted.

Rachel took several steps nearer to her friend and reached for her hands.

Anne Marie studied this action painfully. She didn't want to acknowledge the desire reflected in Rachel's eyes, or the pitiful tone in voice as she said, "Please, Anne Marie," but it was undeniable. She couldn't very well refuse such a request, but she resolved then and there to spurn any invitation to be a part of it.

She pulled away from Rachel's grip, turned on her heel towards the door, and, looking back over her shoulder, spat one word: "Fine."

Anne Marie spent the rest of the afternoon stewing by the fire. After sewing a plethora of haphazard stitches that she knew for a fact would simply have to be pulled and re-sewn on a later date and then attempting to concentrate on her grandfather's latest addition to his library, _Journey to the Center of the Earth_, and failing miserably, she found herself reaching for her reader of all things, but the curriculum sank in even less than Ben's book. Her thoughts were consumed with visions of Rachel and Adam enjoying the lovely afternoon outside without her. In fact, she was certain that her absence was only adding to their mirth. When Hop Sing approached her about preparing supper that afternoon she complained of a headache and relinquished her duties to him, opting to spread out on the couch for a nap instead.

Walking into the house half an hour later, Little Joe cocked a curious eyebrow at his daughter's slumbering form sprawled out upon the sofa.

"Hop Sing?" he asked, turning to the cook who had waltzed into the dining room to set the table for supper.

"Yes, Mister Joe?"

"Is Anne Marie feelin' all right?"

"She say she have headache," he replied.

"I knew somethin' must be wrong for her to be asleep in the middle of the day. I saw Rachel out with Adam. I thought she'd be with 'em."

"She been inside all day."

Joe studied the girl's visage with a grimace.

At that moment Adam and Rachel walked through the door, their cheeks rosy with the good-natured cheer of a morning well spent.

"Hey, how was the riding lesson?" Joe asked.

"She's a natural," Adam replied, hanging his hat on the peg by the door. "I think we'll need to be getting her some appropriate riding attire."

"Oh no, I just need a few patterns and a bolt of cloth, and I can sew them myself," Rachel said.

"Well then, we'll go into town tomorrow and buy some fabric, how does that sound?" Adam said decisively.

Rachel blushed and turned her head away from his beaming smile, embarrassed and overwhelmed by his generosity once again.

"Where's Anne Marie?"

Joe nodded toward the couch where the nine-year-old was just beginning to stir, awakened by the conversation above her.

Adam greeted her with a teasing smirk. "Rise and shine, sleepy head."

Anne Marie rubbed her eyes, stretched, then yawned.

"Are ya feelin' all right, flower?" Joe asked as she brushed the hair out of her face.

She nodded. "Yes, Pa. Why?"

"Well, for starters Hop Sing told me ya weren't feelin' too good. For another thing, even if he hadn't I'd be worried about ya. I don't think I've ever seen you sleep during the day. Even when ya were little it was impossible to get ya to nap."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I was just bored."

Joe shook his head with a smirk. "I don't believe it."

"Well, Rachel was out with Polly so I couldn't go for a ride."

"I'm sorry, Anne Marie," Rachel said immediately, her features suddenly frantic. "I wanted you to come with us, but you went back into the house before I could ask."

"It's fine. I wanted to read anyway," she said, her voice listless and her glance inattentive as she turned to Adam. "Did you put Polly back in the barn, Uncle Adam?"

He nodded. "I haven't rubbed her down yet though."

"I think I'll go for a ride before supper then." And with that Anne Marie sprang off the couch, grabbed her riding jacket hanging on a peg by the door, and hurried outside before the three onlookers could say a word.

Adam looked at Joe who simply stared at his older brother in confusion, then he turned back to Rachel.

"I need to talk to Little Joe in private for a minute, dear."

She nodded in comprehension. "Thank you again for the riding lesson."

"It was my pleasure, Rachel," he said with a tender smile as she disappeared into the guest room, Dinah at her heels.

Little Joe let out a heavy, exasperated signed. "All right, what's wrong now?"

"Why are you asking me? You're her father."

"Yeah, but you're the one who's spent almost every waking moment with her for the past week."

"Well, I don't know what's bothering her, but her change in attitude certainly is surprising. I thought it would be nearly impossible to separate her from Rachel, but not only does she seem to be ignoring her, she's rude when she does speak to her. Something's gotta be done, Joe."

He nodded. "I'll be back."

And with that he marched out the door after his daughter.

* * *

It had been quite a while since Anne Marie had been riding with Little Joe, and after her solitary day in the house she welcomed it with open arms. The cool autumn breeze danced through her hair, its temperature soothing and soft with just the slightest snap that foreshadowed the inevitable winter, which would soon engulf the land in freezing snow. Riding alongside her father, she felt comforted and confident once again. He didn't have to say a word to assure her that she was the most important person in his life. His love flowed so freely and abundantly into the very core of her being through every gesture and expression that words had become superfluous.

As they rode along it suddenly dawned on her that her grandfather and uncles might not feel quite the same way about her as he did. Little Joe not only loved her but adored her as well. To him the life of the little girl beside him was invaluable, and he would defend it with his own without a millisecond of hesitation. But Anne Marie not only began to realize just how much her father cared for her but how much more she loved him as well. Ben and Adam and Hoss were wonderful men – men any child would be lucky to call family – but Joe was special. It seemed she had forgotten that until now, and the remembrance of all those rides that seemed years ago now came back to her, sweeping over her as airily as a cloud from the great blue sky above.

Their path took them to the very spot she knew it would: the pond where her father had proposed to her mother. She hadn't been there since their last ride as it was a place she reserved solely for them to visit together. She was afraid that her mother's memory and the significance of that spot would be sullied if anyone else ventured there, even herself, without Little Joe.

They dismounted, tying their horses' reins to a nearby tree, and sat down on the bank. All was quiet for a moment as Anne Marie studied the water, watching the dying leaves from the surrounding trees gently float down onto its surface, emitting soft ring-shaped ripples that expanded across the body of indigo.

"I'm glad you came with me, Pa," she said.

"I am too, flower," he said, and though her eyes were still fixed upon the pond she could hear the tender smile in his tone.

"Tell me about Ma."

"Well, lemme try to think a somethin' I haven't already told ya." Little Joe leaned back on the palms of his hands and spread his legs out in front of him. "All right. Did I ever tell you your mother was afraid of ridin' at first?"

Anne Marie's eyes widened. "Really?"

Joe nodded. "Sure was, but it was somethin' she wanted to do more than anything else. Ya know that feeling you get when you're riding as fast as you can? She wanted that feeling, and it was more important to her than her fear. It took a while before she was really comfortable, but when she finally was, she was one of the best riders I've ever known."

"I never knew Ma was scared a riding. I never was."

Joe chuckled. "Well, I guess you take after me on that one."

She smiled.

"There's that smile. I haven't seen it in a while."

"I haven't been very happy lately, Pa."

"I've noticed. Everyone has. You're not very good a hiding your feelings, ya know," he teased.

She blushed.

"Well, c'mon. What's wrong, flower?" He propped himself up on his elbow, shifting his weight to his right side.

"It's Uncle Adam."

Joe's eyes enlarged slightly. He didn't know what he had expected her to say, but the mention of his older brother hadn't been a thought in his mind.

"What about him?"

"I don't think he loves me anymore."

"What? Anne Marie, that's ridiculous."

"Well, maybe he loves me, but he loves Rachel more."

Joe was absolutely stunned. "How d'ya figure that?"

"He spends all his time with her and he's teachin' her how to ride and he likes her better in school, I just know it."

"Anne Marie, if Adam's spending any more time with Rachel it's because you've been ignoring her. He doesn't love her more than you; you're his niece. He loves you more than anybody else in the world, just like me and Grandpa and Hoss."

She shook her head. "No he doesn't. He likes Rachel more."

"You're being silly, flower. He likes Rachel because _you_ like Rachel. She's important to you, so she's important to us too, and we want her to feel as comfortable in our home as you do, understand?"

"I still don't like it."

"Well, you're just gonna have to get over that. She's our guest, and your attitude needs an adjustment. You were very rude to her when you left the house."

Silence.

"Well, Anne Marie? Don't ya think you owe your friend an apology?"

She hung her head and turned away sheepishly, muttering, "Yes, sir."

"Good, because I expect you to do it when we get home," he said. Then his expression softened as he took her face in his hands, cupped the stray strands of hair playing about her profile back behind her ear, and kissed her forehead sweetly.

"Don't forget that Rachel only has her mother, and you have me and Grandpa and Adam and Hoss to love you and look after you, and we do, flower. We love you very much. You have a beautiful home, and you need to share it with others."

"All right, Pa," she said, consenting with a sigh as they rose and made their back to the horses.

That evening, Anne Marie presented her apology to Rachel, which the girl readily accepted, and after supper they sat by the fire, playing checkers while Ben read to them from _Pride and Prejudice_. Anne Marie found the story seriously lacking in adventure, but she couldn't help getting caught up in the romance between Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, and Rachel was eating it up like candy. They seemed to be getting along splendidly until Adam announced that they would be driving into town the next day to purchase riding clothes for Rachel. Then Anne Marie's jealousy flared once again and the words Little Joe had spoken to her that afternoon flew out of her head as quickly as they had entered. Her uncle seemed so intent on doting upon her delicate counterpart that she couldn't seem to dismiss the green devil within her, and she knew it was going to take more than a talk with her father to defeat it.


	17. The Reaper

Well, I've gotten to update faster than I thought I would this time around - yay! Don't worry, there will be more on Anne Marie, Rachel, and Adam to come, but I wanted to make sure we didn't forget about Diana either. Sometimes it's hard when you have several different plots connecting all at once, but don't worry. I'm doing my best to give ample attention to each one. Note!

littlemom: I just wanted to let you know that I did not intend in anyway for it to seem that Adam is intentionally buttering Rachel up, even though he may be rather obliviously. Adam is merely attempting to fill a gap in her life - not replace her father, but serve as a sort of father figure that he sees her in need of and that Diana has also admitted she would like Rachel to have, just as she has become a motherly figure for Anne Marie. In devoting a little more time to Rachel, he has also realized that they share a deeper connection in their similar personalities, and this has increased his affection for her infinitely more than simply looking after her as a fatherly mentor. Of course, this is all maximized by his love for Diana as well. It's a complicated situation, for sure, and I hope I've expressed this effectively in the plot so it's not uncharacteristic of Adam to naturally be growing closer to Rachel.

islaboe: I don't think either Adam or Joe understand the severity of the situation - just how angry and hurt and even confused Anne Marie is feeling - which is why they haven't punished her more severely up to this point, but keep reading! There's definitely more to come.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

The next day the four Cartwrights and Rachel Cunningham rode into town together. Adam and Joe drove the buggy while Ben and Hoss rode alongside on horseback. There was much to do, as it had been several weeks since the family had visited Virginia City. Ben had a list of groceries a mile long stuffed in his pocket (sent care of Hop Sing) in addition to his usual business to conduct, and while he diverted the list to his middle son, Adam and Joe accompanied the girls to the dress shop. There not only did Adam purchase a bolt of cloth for both Anne Marie and Rachel, but he outfitted the latter with a very basic set of riding attire, complete with two blouses, a skirt, and a pair of boots. He even offered to throw a hat into the bargain, but, for once in her life, Rachel put her foot down.

Instantly Anne Marie forgot the substantial selection of shirts and skirts (and three pairs of boots) in her own closet. She was so fixated on the attention and generosity her uncle was showering upon a child other than herself that by the end of the trip Anne Marie viewed the poor girl as more of a foe than a friend. However, she still didn't know how to express her emotions. She wanted to approach the situation as a lady, with maturity and grace, but she feared bringing the matter before her uncle when she was certain he would simply disregard her accusations as absurdities. So, in an attempt to starve the anger simmering in the pit of her stomach as she knew a woman should, she simply let the jealousy fester, and, as a result, her anger gradually melted into hurt.

Hours later, after all of Ben's business had been taken care of and the groceries and goodies were carefully loaded in the wagon, the family piled into the buggy once more and pointed the horses homeward. To their delight, Hoss surprised Anne Marie and Rachel when he handed a piece of fudge to each of them, warning them not to breathe a word to Hop Sing. However, as the buckboard passed Diana's house, Adam pulled up on the reins and the caravan stopped, noting Doc Martin's rig parked before it.

A slight rumble made the company turn to find the undertaker's wagon coming up the lane behind them.

Ben slowed his horse and brought it to a trot alongside the vehicle.

The man in the seat tipped his hat. "Howdy, Ben."

"Howdy, Mark. Bad news today?"

He nodded. "'Fraid so. Poor Betty Finney just passed."

"I'm so sorry," Ben said, bowing his head. "She was a good woman."

Mark nodded. "It's gonna be hard on Frank raisin' those two children on his own."

"He won't be alone, Mark," Hoss said suddenly, lifting his head. "There's a lot a good folks 'round here. He'll get all the help he needs."

Anne Marie peered into her father's face, hidden beneath the brim of his hat. It was wrought with reverent sorrow. "Mrs. Finney…died?"

"Yes, flower," Joe said, his voice raspy and thin. He wrapped an arm around her as a shiver ran up her spine and she nestled her body into the crook of his arm in search of security.

Rachel, however, simply observed the scene, a sense of bewilderment slowly beginning to grow until, finally, she murmured, "Wh-what about Ma?"

Adam's head perked up at the mention of her mother. "Yes, how is Diana?"

Mark shrugged his shoulders. "All I know's Doc asked me to come get the body, said he was on his way to Frank's. I didn't except to see his buggy when I pulled up."

The door opened then and Paul Martin emerged, trudging down the steps. His head hung from his neck, eyes focused on the steps beneath his feet, and as soon as he lifted it, his forlorn expression greeted the gathering in the yard.

"Hello, Ben," he said, shaking the patriarch's hand. "I guess Mark told you what's happened."

The rancher nodded. "We're very sorry to hear it. If there's anything we can do, I trust you'll let me know."

"Of course. I'm on my way to tell Frank now, just stopped by to check on Diana."

"Is she all right?"

"I'm afraid not, Ben." Doc Martin shook his head. "I knew the risk she was taking when she decided to nurse Betty, but I allowed her to do it anyway."

Unable to sit still a moment longer, Adam jumped down from the buggy and strode up to the doctor, an expression very close to panic etched into every feature. "What are you saying, Doc?"

"She has typhoid, Adam."

"You don't mean-"

"I don't know. It's too early to tell. What I do know is that Diana Cunningham has a much greater constitution than Elizabeth Finney ever did. She's strong, and as long as she stays strong she should pull through."

"Ma's sick?" Rachel slid out of the rig and hurried up to the doctor, tears lining her bottom lid.

"I'm sorry, dear." Paul Martin's face was morose with regret at having to tell this soft, sweet child that her mother was ill. He knew her father had already passed, and the idea that she might soon be an orphan was gut-wrenching.

Adam, however, felt as if not only his gut but also his heart was on fire, burning beneath a smoldering pyre of hopes and dreams. In a very small way he supposed this experience was not unlike his brother's several years ago when Avonlea had died. But somehow this pain was different. His brother had spent a year at his wife's side, loving her and comforting her and sharing in her suffering. He, however, Adam Cartwright, had held back, refusing to unveil his love to Diana. He had devised multiple excuses to keep from exposing himself to humiliation and heartbreak, his chief excuse being Diana's obvious crush on Little Joe upon her arrival. But it seemed that over the past few months whatever emotions she may have harbored for his younger brother at first were now nonexistent. Joe had expressed his feelings to Avonlea, and therefore had the luxury of spending a year of unbridled affection with her, despite the circumstances. Adam, on the other hand, had denied himself this amenity, and if these were to be Diana's last days, she would spend them alone. The thought was so horrifying he could not bear to entertain it, watching her life fade away in a cold, dark room without a shred of human kindness to ease her passing – without the words of love he should have spoken to her months ago.

As these thoughts clouded his head, Adam felt his throat constrict. He swallowed hard to avoid vomiting right there in the street, and as he did, he sensed a pressure building behind his eyes that gradually blurred his vision. He blinked profusely. For the first time in his life he couldn't manage to form a complete thought, finally snatching at the one fragment that rose repetitively to the forefront of his mind and seemed to crowd out everything else.

"Who's caring for her now?" he said.

"I've sent for Mrs. Jenkins down the street. She's helped me through one or two epidemics here in Virginia City and is one of the best nurses I've ever known. She's going to check in on Diana every few hours. Of course she can't stay too long without becoming exposed to typhoid herself, but I'll make my daily visit as usual, so between the two of us and Diana's own constitution, she should recover," Doc Martin said.

"Should?"

"Nothing's ever guaranteed in this life, Adam."

"Well, you can guarantee that I'll be by every day until she's well again."

"Son-" Ben reached his hand out to place it on Adam's shoulder, but the man shrugged it away in irritation.

"My mind's made up, Pa," he said.

Ben studied his eldest son's features, fashioned into a fierce grimace that held within it a pain too deep to fully comprehend, and he knew objecting would simply be a wasted effort. Adam was too much like himself for him to expect anything more or less.

"I'd advise against it, Adam. It's a terrible risk to expose yourself to typhoid, and you not only have your obligation to the Ponderosa but to the school now as well."

"I know."

"I don't want an epidemic breaking out here," the doctor warned.

He nodded solemnly. "I understand, Doc."

"Just be careful, Adam."

"I will."

"Well, I've gotta get out to the Finney place and tell Frank about Betty," Doc said. The corners of his mouth drooped into a sober frown as he girded himself for the task ahead. It never got any easier. He shook his head, seated himself comfortably on the seat of his rig, then clicked the horses into motion and bumped off down the road uneven dirt road.

The company watched him go until Mark cleared his throat, commanding their attention. "Well, I, I better get to work," he said hesitantly, eyes roving from Ben to Adam.

The two men immediately recognized the apprehension in his tone, understanding that he didn't want to cart Betty's body off in the presence of children.

Ben nodded and offered a warm smile to the child standing between himself and Adam. "C'mon, Rachel. We need to get this food back to Hop Sing so he can finish making supper."

"But I wanna see Ma."

"You don't wanna get sick too now, do ya?" he asked, squatting down to her level.

She shook her head as a stray tear trickled down her cheek. "No," she said with a sniffle, "but I wanna see her."

"I know, dear, but it's not gonna do her any good if you get sick too. She wouldn't want that."

"I know."

"When she gets better, we'll visit her together," Adam said, squatting beside her as well.

She batted back several more tears. "You promise?"

"I promise," he said. And with that Adam reached out his arm, taking her small hand in his, and led her back to the rig where he lifted her up onto the seat beside Anne Marie. He then climbed up beside Little Joe and the family resumed their journey homeward, silent as the grave.


End file.
